Draco's Protector

Title: Draco’s Protector
Author: Ras
Rating: Fan-Rated Adult Only for excessive violence and graphic descriptions of child abuse
Pairings: Severus/Draco (in a parental way, not a sexual way)
Feedback: Please leave a comment. I would love to hear from you.
Author Notes: This story came into my head while watching Chamber of Secrets. I always wanted to know why Draco was whining for attention in the infirmary scene after the Quidditch match. It seemed out of character to me, so I made up my own little story of why he would act like that. Please note that I have taken some liberties with the story, for example deciding that Snape is Draco’s godfather. Also note that the descriptions of child abuse are graphic, so please don’t read this if that is going to bother you.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter, Draco, Severus, any HP characters, or copyrighted words that appear in this story. I make no money off this story.


Draco woke himself up coughing again. He tried to catch his breath, but his lungs were bucking the rhythm he was trying to establish. Just in and out, just a little, he reminded himself. Draco forced himself to roll to just the right position to give his ribs a chance to expand. The simple move exhausted him and reignited the burning fire from the welts on his back. He was also shivering with cold. He wondered for a moment if he was still naked, but no, he could feel the slight pressure of the fabric on his wounds. So, his mother had already visited him while he was unconscious, clothed him in his pajamas again, and left a glass of water sitting on his nightstand. She hadn’t put him under the blankets, though. Draco realized it was probably because he had been hot and sweating and kicking off the blankets earlier. But, he was cold now, and he didn’t have the capacity to get himself under them. He was too weak to stand up and climb under them and too sore to wiggle himself around on the bed. His wand was too far away for him to reach. He couldn’t call for his mother to come cover him; calling out would earn him another punishment. So, he just bundled his arms in around himself trying to add some warmth without hurting his ribs further. Moving just that little bit pulled the flesh on his back tighter, and Draco let a sob escape. His welts burned something awful! His breathing muscles were starting to tire out already, and he could feel the cough coming back, too. He couldn’t take much more of this.

When he was not being punished, Draco was left with nothing to do but wallow in his despair. All he could do was think. He thought about the pain, about his father’s feelings towards him, about what he had done to deserve all of this, about how it was never going to end, about how much he hated Potter, and about how much he missed his godfather. If only there were some way to make up for his mistakes to his father. If there were something, anything, he could do to please him . . . Draco knew he’d never be able to completely atone for his transgressions, but . . . if he could just do something so his father wouldn’t be so angry with him.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs brought him out of his thoughts. The footsteps were heavy and hurried; his father was coming to whip him some more! Draco felt the sweat breaking out on his skin. What had he done to deserve another punishment so soon? His body couldn’t handle anymore, not yet. It was hardest to keep breathing when the panic surged within him.

Draco was momentarily confused when he saw Severus Snape walking through the door. It was one of his hallucinations, he quickly realized. From the beginning he had fantasized about pushing his panic button and his godfather coming for him; but recently, whether it was because of his concussion or the fever or just sheer exhaustion, it felt like Severus was really there. Draco was puzzled as to why his hallucination was walking through the door instead of just appearing next to him as he normally did. Maybe his mind was projecting his godfather’s image onto his father’s body so that he could deal with the panic? He wasn’t sure, but he let himself relax slightly as the figure approached him and knelt at his bedside.

Severus’ hand reached up and touched his shoulder. “Draco,” he said with concern.

Amazingly, when Severus touched him it hurt. His shoulder was in pain. Always before when his imaginary godfather caressed him, it didn’t matter what injuries he touched, it felt like he was actually touching him, but it never caused pain. “You’re real,” Draco said in shock. His voice was hoarse from the combination of coughing, dehydration, and suppressing his screams.

Severus nodded but didn’t comment. He moved his hand to Draco’s forehead, and gently brushed away a few sweat-soaked stray hairs. “You’re burning up,” he whispered.

Draco tried to say something, but his scratchy throat hurt immediately from the vibrations, and then the cough overtook him. Severus let him cough for a moment then reached for the water glass sitting on Draco’s nightstand. He gently tilted Draco’s head and turned the glass so that a few drops of water would fall onto his cracked lips. The cough seemed to ease some, so Severus let him have an actual sip of water to lubricate his parched throat. He was taking such tender care of him, the way Draco had always wished that his mother would.

Draco couldn’t believe it, couldn’t believe his godfather was actually there. Severus came to help him, after everything he’d done, after he had turned down his protection to go with his father, and yet he still came. His godfather did care about him. Fear suddenly overcame Draco again. He struggled, trying to sit up. “F-f-father,” he panted through his short panicked breaths. If Lucius found Severus in his room, he would kill him in an instant.

“Shh,” Severus said gently urging him to lie back down. “Relax. He was called away to a meeting at the Ministry with Fudge and Dumbledore. He won’t be back for hours.”

Exhausted from his efforts, Draco fell back to the bed in relief. He cringed as his wounded side hit the bed. Yet the pain was overshadowed by how wonderful he felt inside. He was safe, for just a few hours he was safe. And, he had his godfather there to comfort him. What a wonderful treat that was. He was so happy, he didn’t even argue as Severus lifted his pajama top to examine his back. He knew he could allow Severus to see his battered body; Severus wouldn’t judge him. He knew most of Draco’s secrets, and yet, he still seemed to care for him.

“I should have killed him,” Severus muttered under his breath as he checked the injuries to Draco’s ribs.

It was difficult to talk with his breathing so labored, but finally Draco decided to ask, “Do you know . . . how to mend . . . broken ribs? Please . . . I don’t care if you do a good job. Please . . . just, just ease the pain a little.”

Severus shook his head, and Draco’s heart sank. “I’m not here to heal you, Draco. I’ve come to get you out of here.”

Draco’s eyes widened. “But, but . . . Father,” he began.

“Do you really want to stay with him, Draco?” Severus asked with hurt in his eyes.

“No, but, but . . . he’ll know . . . that you’ve taken me. He’ll . . .”

“He will know that you are with me, but he will not come after us, Draco,” he said calmly. Then, seeing the look of disbelief on Draco’s face he added, “Do you trust me, Draco?”

Draco didn’t even have to think about the answer to that question. Severus would have protected him the last time if he hadn’t been so stupid and failed to tell him the whole truth about the situation. He wouldn’t be so stupid again. He trusted Severus with his life. “Of course, Sir.”

“Then, we’re going.”

Draco’s head was swimming. His brain wasn’t able to keep up with everything that was happening. “Mother,” he whispered in concern.

“Your mother is quite capable of protecting herself. Besides, she chose to help in our plan to rescue you. Please, Draco. I’m not taking no for an answer this time.”

Draco found his confused mind couldn’t make a logical discussion out of his fragmented thoughts and feelings, but he knew he wanted to be safe. He knew there were reasons why he should remain loyal to his father and stay at Malfoy Manor, but his injured body wanted the hurting to be over. And, he knew deep down he wanted to be with Severus. Slowly, Draco agreed.

“Let’s get you out of here, then,” Severus affirmed. He stood, pulled his wand, and pointed it at Draco. Draco flinched.

Shocked, Severus lowered his wand. “Draco, I’m not going to hurt you. I would never . . .”

“I know . . . I’m sorry . . . it’s just . . .” How could he explain that he had been cursed so many times in the last few days that the mere sight of a wand made him flinch?

“I understand,” Severus whispered, sparing Draco from having to go into further details. At that exact moment Draco believed that Severus did understand. He didn’t think poorly of him for flinching like a coward for no reason. “I promise I’m not going to hurt you,” Severus continued. “I’m just going to levitate you. You’re too weak to walk on your own, and I thought it would be less painful if I levitated you instead of lifting you because of your bruises.”

“I’m sorry,” Draco apologized again. “I . . . it’s all right . . . I’m okay now,” he gave his consent.

Severus finally levitated him into the air. He pulled a light blanket off the bed and draped it over Draco’s body to provide him some comfort. Then he levitated Draco over until he brushed up against his chest. “Do you think you can put your arms around my neck?” Severus asked.

“Yes,” Draco whispered and slowly wrapped his arms around Severus’ neck. Despite the pain his body felt from being moved, it felt wonderful to be in his godfather’s embrace. It was the first kind human contact he had felt in days. He knew his intense desire to be held by Severus was childish, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t resist the urge to be closer to his godfather. He rested his head gently on Severus’ shoulder and hoped that Severus wouldn’t rebuke him for it. His godfather had always granted him physical closeness before, but Draco was unsure if he was still allowed to after the choices he had made.

“That’s good,” Severus whispered to him. “Can you curl up your knees any without hurting your ribs?” Draco did, and Severus slipped his arm underneath him. For the most part, Severus was levitating him to prevent pressure on the bruises, but there was just enough contact between the two to keep them linked together. “You’re going to be okay now, Draco,” Severus reassured him.

Draco felt the sting of tears at the back of his eyes. He quickly blinked them away, not wanting to cry. Severus was being so good to him. Draco found it still impossible to believe that after all of the mistakes he had made, Severus could still care for him. Draco knew he didn’t deserve the kindness his godfather was showing him, but there he was, holding him and comforting him. “I can’t believe . . . you came . . .” Draco murmured into the crook of Severus’ neck.

“Of course I came,” was Severus’ only reply.

Draco was grateful that he had, but he still couldn’t comprehend why. “I didn’t . . . I didn’t . . . even push my panic button,” Draco whispered, wondering how Severus could forgive him for that.

“You didn’t have to,” his godfather whispered. Severus carefully carried Draco out of the room and down the stairs, clearly trying his hardest not to jostle Draco too much. They ran into Narcissa at the landing to the second floor.

“Ohh, Draco,” she said sadly.

“Mother,” Draco whispered. Severus said that she had agreed to his rescue plan. Did that mean that she was actually going to just let them leave? He looked up at her face and was surprised to see that the cold but proud expression she normally wore was gone. Her emotions were still guarded, but she looked almost . . . sad? Draco couldn’t believe it. Was it possible that she did care about him? Maybe just a little bit?

“You be good for your godfather. Don’t give him any trouble. He is being very generous coming for you. You have no idea how lucky you are that he’s actually willing to take you in.” She paused as if continuing was difficult for her. Her voice sounded hoarse, almost as if her throat was swollen. “Even if you aren’t living under this roof, you are to act in a manner befitting a Malfoy. I expect you to still bring pride to the Malfoy name.”

“Yes, Mother,” he whispered, as he noticed the slight tremble of her lips. Severus only gave her a slight nod before he carried Draco down the rest of the stairs.

“Severus,” Narcissa’s voice cracked as she called after them.

“Yes,” Severus paused for a moment.

“Will you send word, when he is okay? Please, I must know . . .”

“Of course, Narcissa,” he replied before he carried his godson out the door. Draco continued to cuddle up against Severus as he was levitated down the walkway. For a brief moment he looked back at the enormous stone manor that had always been his home. It felt strangely unsettling to be leaving it behind, but he knew Severus would take care of him. Draco forced himself to turn and look forward. It was then that he noticed that there was another figure waiting for them at the gates.

“Dear Lord, Severus!” Professor McGonagall gasped as the couple became visible.

‘Not her,’ Draco thought to himself. He didn’t want her seeing him like this, seeing his weakness. Draco tried to turn his face to hide his bruised cheek in Severus’ neck, but there was no hiding the way he was breathing. There was no way to move all of the bruises out of sight. She would know.

“You told me he was abused, but THIS?” she asked incredulously.

A sob escaped Draco’s throat before he could stop it. She already knew?

“It’s all right, Draco,” Severus tried to soothe.

“You told,” he accused. He tried to keep his voice to a whisper, but his pitch rose with the words, revealing the shock of his betrayal. How could Severus do this to him? He had said that he wouldn’t tell anyone, that he wouldn’t do anything without Draco’s permission, that he understood his need for privacy. Draco’s heart began pounding into his ribs with a renewed sense of panic.

“Draco, I couldn’t lure your father out of the manor, keep him distracted, rescue you, and heal you all by myself. I had to ask for help.”

Tears of embarrassment and humiliation overcame Draco’s guards. He couldn’t believe that Severus had betrayed his trust. Professor McGonagall now knew the severity of the punishments he had forced his father to give him. Suddenly overwhelmed with shame, Draco couldn’t hold it back anymore. He buried his head in Severus’ shoulder and soaked his robes in tears. He was careful, though, not to cry aloud. He didn’t want to give McGonagall the satisfaction of hearing him cry.

Severus leaned over and whispered sharply in his ear, “Shhh, it’s all right. Let’s just get you home.” With that, he Apparated both of them away.

Draco didn’t pay much attention to where Severus Apparated them to. He still had his head buried in Severus’ shoulder, while trying his hardest to keep his sobs as quiet as possible. If he had been paying attention he would have noticed that they were not outside of Hogwarts, as Draco had expected, but at the end of a run-down Muggle street. Severus carried Draco while Professor McGonagall stayed at his side with her wand drawn, on the lookout for any sign of movement. They approached a seemingly empty lot when Severus whispered, “This is our home now.”

Draco looked up for the first time and saw that they were entering a dilapidated two-story Muggle house, but Draco didn’t really care where they were going. He was too consumed with physical and emotional pain to care where he was. After Severus carried Draco across the threshold, McGonagall shut and bolted the door.

“You’re safe now, Draco. He won’t be able to find us here,” Severus whispered to him. “I am the Secret-Keeper of your location, and I will not let him find you.”

Draco did feel some relief at being safe. His father couldn’t find him, couldn’t hurt him, and Severus had obviously come up with a very well thought out plan to protect him, but . . . was that really what he wanted? Draco wasn’t sure anymore. Being safe was good, having Severus to hold and comfort him was great, but . . . did he want to never even see his father again, to be . . . a runaway nothing? Draco continued to sob into his godfather’s shoulder. He knew he shouldn’t let McGonagall see him cry, but he was just too worn down to control his cries anymore. He was in so much pain, so physically exhausted, and in so much emotional turmoil.

Professor McGonagall stayed at the door, apparently putting more magical guards on it, as Severus carried Draco up the stairs. The prolonged sobbing was having an effect on Draco’s breathing. He suddenly found himself trying to breathe in, but his cries interrupted the effort, leaving him heaving in short bursts with no result.

“Draco,” Severus’ crisp command cut through Draco’s panic. “Calm down!”

Draco should have realized that Severus was just trying to break his panic with his harsh tone, but it felt like a reprimand. Severus had never punished him for crying before, but that had been when it was just the two of them. Letting someone else see him cry . . . that definitely deserved punishment. Draco knew he deserved to be scolded. He knew better than to let others see his weakness, but a rebuke from Severus right then really hurt his heart. Draco finally managed a sip of air, enough to allow a breath. As he sobbed the air out, he added the words, “Godfather, I’m sorry.”

Severus’ scowl and firm voice softened immediately. “It’s okay, Draco. I promise it’s okay,” he reassured him. “Shhhh, I just want you to calm down so you can breathe better. Shhhh, shhhh, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Severus continued to gently comfort as they reached a small bedroom.

“Thank goodness, Severus!” a shrill voice exclaimed from the corner of the room.

Draco didn’t need to remove his face from where it was buried in Severus’ chest to immediately know it was Madam Pomfrey. “No,” he whispered in vain as another wave of humiliation washed over him. How many people had Severus told? How many people were going to get to witness his shame?

“Shhhh, Draco,” Severus’ voice began its reassurances again. “Take a small little breath in for me; that’s it. Just a small breath out; that’s it, shhhhh. Don’t worry about anything else; stop those thoughts and concentrate on breathing for me.” They were next to the bed now, and Severus asked him, “What is the most comfortable way for you to lie?”

“On . . . on my left side,” Draco managed to croak out, as he struggled to control his sobs. He didn’t want Madam Pomfrey to see him crying, too. Severus flipped back the light green comforter and cream sheets then levitated Draco gently onto the bed on his left side.

Draco was shivering, so Severus pulled up the blankets and asked, “That all right?”

“Yes, Sir,” Draco responded weakly. Lying still eased some of the pain, but the welts on the side he had to lay on were screaming in agony from the pressure. Draco listened as Madam Pomfrey prepared her cart of medical supplies and Severus informed her of his likely injuries. He was trying to follow Severus’ advice and concentrate on breathing, but every few seconds his thoughts would break through, causing his breath to hitch and his ribs to sting horribly. All Draco could think was that he didn’t want this. He didn’t want anyone to know; he didn’t want anyone to see him in this state.

“I’m so glad you made it here safely,” Madam Pomfrey said with what sounded like genuine relief in her voice. “We’re lucky one of his broken ribs didn’t shift and puncture his lung. But, I really wish you would have agreed to my suggestion and made special arrangements to Apparate him directly to the infirmary. If his injuries are anything like you’re describing, this is not a proper environment for healing them.”

“Lucius will be expecting something like that. He can not find us here. This arrangement is safer.”

As Madam Pomfrey approached the bed, Severus turned his attention to Draco. His voice was soft and kind. “Madam Pomfrey is going to examine you and heal you. Would you like for me to give you some privacy for this, Draco, or would you rather I stay?”

Draco knew his godfather was offering the option so he wouldn’t embarrass himself in front of him. He should be brave. He shouldn’t need anyone. But, he was terrified. He didn’t want to let Madam Pomfrey near him. He knew his ribs had to be fixed, but Draco disliked her and didn’t want to be alone with her. He wanted Severus to sit and hold him, even though that was childish and showed weakness. But . . . he . . . he needed him. His hand flew and grabbed his godfather’s hand before he even realized what he was doing. Terrified of rejection, Draco dared whisper “stay?” in a hushed, nearly inaudible voice. He begged with his eyes for Severus to understand. “Godfather, please?”

“Of course, Draco,” Severus said. If Severus was angry at him for being so weak he didn’t show it as he casually pulled a plush chair to Draco’s bedside. He took a seat and held Draco’s hand for support. “I know you’re cold, Draco, but she’s got to be able to reach your ribs, okay?” Severus asked before pulling the comforter down to Draco’s waist.

Madam Pomfrey stepped closer to the bed and immediately reached to remove Draco’s pajama top. Draco recoiled at her touch and curled himself protectively inward. He squeezed down painfully hard on his godfather’s hand and vehemently shook his head. He didn’t want her stripping him. She had no right to see his shame.

“I know you know better than to make sudden movements on an abuse victim.” Severus firmly reminded her.

“I’m sorry, I guess I just didn’t realize . . .” her voice trailed off, not vocalizing the end of the thought. Draco could finish it for her, though, ‘I didn’t realize a Malfoy could be so weak.’

Severus asked Draco for permission to raise his pajama top a little so that she could access his ribs. Draco wanted to say no. He didn’t want her seeing his bruised and welted body, but he knew the ribs had to be fixed. He wanted to be able to breathe again. He wanted the stabbing pain that came with every breath to stop. He had to agree to this, so he gave his consent. Severus was gentle as he rolled the top up to Draco’s underarms. As Draco had expected, Madam Pomfrey gasped at the sight of his injured body. He felt a sudden wave of shame. But, it couldn’t be helped. The ribs had to be fixed, and that meant he had to let her see. Severus gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

“I’m sorry I startled you, Draco,” Madam Pomfrey apologized. “I’ll try to remember to explain to you what I’m going to do before I do anything to you, okay? I’m going to use my wand now to cast a spell that will help me check for breaks in your ribs. This spell won’t hurt.” She slowly drew her wand and said an incantation before running the wand along Draco’s side. It hummed as she moved it along. Finally she settled it over the most painful spot, and it hummed loudly. “There are three cracked ribs,” she informed them. “Two of the cracks are minor; although, I am sure quite painful. The third is a deeper break. Unfortunately, they’ve been left to heal too long on their own for a simple unbreak spell to work. It is possible for me to properly align the bones and regrow the breaks with a spell, but I’m afraid that it’s going to hurt.”

She paused for a moment for her words to sink in before she began a lengthy spell to mend the deepest break. It was excruciating. Draco hadn’t really expected that. He could feel the rib moving to bring the pieces back together at the right angle. He let himself moan with the pain. Then the two pieces of the ribs were grinding up against each other as if they didn’t fit. Draco couldn’t help it. He cried aloud.

“Squeeze my hand with the pain, Draco,” Severus suggested.

Grateful for the suggestion, Draco squeezed down hard on Severus’ hand as she continued to work on the rib. Now Draco could feel the splinters of new bone growing to merge the two pieces together. It was an awful feeling of pins and needles between the bones. It honestly hurt worse than when the ribs had been broken in the first place. Finally the rib seemed to be whole, and the pain lessened.

“One down,” she assured him.

Draco panted. That had been awful torture. It was so painful, he wasn’t sure he could handle having the other two healed. He remembered that they were lesser breaks, so he hoped they wouldn’t be quite as painful. But, he was scared. This was like a nightmare with Madam Pomfrey finding out his secret and seeing his beaten body and then torturing him with pain.

Severus seemed to understand his feelings. He started caressing Draco’s hair. “That was the worst of it, Draco,” he reassured him. “These next two won’t hurt as much.”

Draco was able to breathe a little easier already, so he knew it was worth pushing onward. “I’m ready,” he whispered. Madam Pomfrey repeated the same process on the next rib. Luckily the grinding didn’t happen as much with this rib, as it was already mostly in place. But, he still felt that awful splintering as the bone healed the crack. Gasping with pain, Draco tried to blink back the tears in his eyes. He didn’t want Madam Pomfrey seeing those. They took another short break for Draco to let out the cough he couldn’t stifle and for Severus to comfort him some more before Madam Pomfrey began healing the third broken rib. It felt much like the second had, but Draco had exhausted himself with the effort of trying to control himself for the previous ribs. Unable to control it anymore, he started softly sobbing as she finished healing the final rib.

“Shhh, all done, Draco,” Severus comforted him. “Try and take a breath,” he suggested. Draco did. It still wasn’t a normal breath, and there was still some pain, but it was much easier than before. The intense stabbing pain that came with each breath was gone. “The remaining pain is from the bruising,” Severus informed him, “but, it’s better, isn’t it?”

“Yes, thank you,” Draco said to both Severus and Madam Pomfrey.

“Okay, now that you can breathe better I need to perform a full exam to determine the extent of the rest of your injuries,” Madam Pomfrey informed.

“N-n-no,” Draco protested. As much as he wanted all of the pain to go away, he didn’t need Madam Pomfrey examining his welted bottom or poking and prodding his abused flesh. For a brief moment, his desire to feel better warred against his fear of Madam Pomfrey’s exam. He did want to be healed. The welts on his back and bottom burned horribly, and he would be glad to be rid of his fever. But, in the end, the panic that coursed through him at the thought of Madam Pomfrey pulling down his pajama pants and seeing his raw bottom won out. “Just, just the ribs. I’m . . . I’m fine, now,” he lied.

“You are far from fine, child,” she chided.

Draco turned to Severus for some help. Surely he understood; Draco didn’t want her help. Severus wouldn’t force him to let her examine him, would he? “Godfather, please . . .” Draco pleaded as his heart raced with fear.

But, Severus took her side. “She’s already here, Draco, and she already knows. She’s already seen most of it. Let her heal you. There’s no point in remaining in pain to save your pride when she already knows.”

Draco didn’t dare argue with Severus, but he didn’t want her touching him. He was exhausted from trying to hold it together while handling the pain of having his ribs healed. He was terrified at the thought of her examining him and seeing just how severely his father had had to punish him. He knew he wouldn’t be able force himself to accept the examination just then, not while trying to maintain his composure. He was ashamed to ask for it, but he needed it. “Can I at least have a break?” his voice cracked.

“Of course,” Severus responded and gently stroked his godson’s hair to reassure him. Draco struggled to try and pull himself back together. His throat kept closing off from the effort of trying to hold the tears in. Occasionally a sob would escape him causing his feelings of humiliation to soar higher than they already were a moment before. He wanted to calm himself down and behave in a reasonable manner, but he just couldn’t. He didn’t want her examining him. The humiliation was just too much for him to handle.

Draco was choking back yet another sob when Severus whispered, “Just let it out, Draco.”

“What?” Draco asked. He knew he shouldn’t break down in front of Madam Pomfrey. Looking up, Draco realized they were alone now and the door was closed. He had missed Severus’ indication to Madam Pomfrey that she should excuse herself for a while.

“It’s just you and me now, Draco. Let it out.”

“But, crying leads to further punishment,” Draco automatically repeated the mantra his father had beaten into him.

“Not with me, not when it’s just you and me. There’s no shame in crying in front of me,” Severus reiterated. As an added measure he cast a Silencing Charm on the room. “No one can hear but me, let it out.”

Unable to control himself any longer, Draco let himself cry. He let out all the cries he’d been trying to hold in for days. He cried from pain, shame, humiliation, fear, and even guilt. He’d been taught his whole life to hide his tears, but now that he had permission to let it out, Draco couldn’t contain the ferocity of his cries.

“Shhhh, that’s good, Draco. That’s enough. It’s okay now. Calm down for me. You’re making yourself sick. Shhh, it’s okay . . .”

Draco realized Severus had been comforting him all along through his screams and cries, but was now trying to calm him back down. He had let the pain out, let the tears out, but he was now crying so hard he was gasping for air and coughing heavily between sobs. Emotions still widely coursing through him, Draco lashed out with the pain that was currently foremost in his mind. “Why did you have to tell her? Why does she have to heal me? I don’t want her touching me! Severus . . .” Draco gulped for air between phrases.

“Shhh, Draco, shhhh. You’re sick, and you are hurt very badly. You’re wounds need to be healed. I know you don’t want her, but I need help,” Severus calmly explained, still not chastising Draco for his outburst. “She may have made it look easy, but that spell she just performed to heal your broken ribs was an extremely advanced healing spell. I couldn’t have mended your ribs without her, and I’m sure I won’t be able to treat some of your additional injuries without a trained healer.”

“But why her?”

“Would you have preferred it if I had selected another healer? Perhaps one of my former Death Eater contacts? Someone loyal to your father, who would have found a way to betray our location to him?”

“Yes . . . No, I don’t know!” Draco cried. He was so exhausted, so torn between so many emotions. He didn’t know what he wanted anymore. He just wanted the pain to disappear and to be able to fall asleep being held in Severus’ arms. Suddenly a thought occurred to him. Who had Severus told? How many people? And what had he told them? As scared as he was at the thought, Draco had to know the answer. “Who knows?” Draco finally dared to ask.

He didn’t have to clarify the question. “Only those it was absolutely necessary to tell,” Severus replied.

“Who?” Draco demanded an answer.

“McGonagall, Pomfrey, Dumbledore, and Fudge.”

“Dumbledore!” Draco exclaimed as loudly as his lungs would allow. This outburst was followed quickly by a fit of coughing. He hated Dumbledore. His father had always said that Dumbledore was the worst thing that had ever happened to Hogwarts . . . but, did it really matter what his father thought anymore?

“He was the only one capable of convincing Fudge, and Fudge is the only living wizard your father would respond to a summons from. I had to get Lucius out of the house so your mother could lower the manor defenses and let me in. Besides, Fudge is also the only one with the power to do anything to your father.”

“Do anything?” Draco asked, his stomach suddenly churning.

“Your father will be spending the night in Azkaban,” Severus explained.

“What!” Draco screamed. He had overdone it, and he winced in pain as his bruised ribs screamed in agony.

“Only one night. I’ll have him released in the morning. And, don’t worry; Fudge has agreed to keep this a secret. He doesn’t want to loose your father’s financing. However, the threat of someone leaking to the Daily Prophet that Fudge allowed his largest political contributor to cast an Unforgivable Curse on a child, well, that convinced him that some sort of action was necessary. The Dementors do not even know who they are guarding. No one but those four will ever know, but your father will get the message that I am serious about protecting you.”

Draco closed his eyes, overwhelmed by emotions. He was relieved that he was safe; but more than that he was humiliated that people, especially those people, knew; and he felt bad that his father was spending the night in Azkaban. He didn’t deserve that. Draco felt grateful that his godfather was protecting him, yet extremely betrayed that he had told, after he promised not to. “How could you?” he finally posed the question that had first come to his mind.

“I know you are upset, Draco, but I will not apologize for my actions. I did what was necessary to protect you. Your father would have killed you if I hadn’t intervened. This was the only viable plan. It had to be done.”

“You said you understood,” Draco cried, his voice cracking on the words. It was finally occurring to him that the secret shame he had worked his entire life to hide was now out. People, important people, like Dumbledore and Fudge knew about it. Before long, everyone would know.

“I do, Draco. Believe me, I do. I know you didn’t want anyone to know, but the secret will remain with them,” Severus reassured.

“Yeah, right,” Draco said.

“If there is one thing you can count on their side to do, Draco, it’s to keep their promises. They will not tell anyone.”

Draco didn’t know what to say. He thought about the Minister of Magic and Dumbledore sitting and having a conversation about how badly he had been punished. His father had always warned him that if anyone ever found out about how bad he had to be punished, they would blame Draco. It hadn’t happened when Severus found out, but Severus was his godfather and confidant. But other people, they would blame him. They would know what a failure and disgrace he was. They would . . . Draco could feel himself loosing control again.

“Shhhh, it’s okay, Draco. I know you’re confused. You’re exhausted and hurt, and you probably have a lot of conflicting thoughts and feelings now, but you need to trust me. You need to trust me to make the right decisions for you. I’m looking out for you now. I’ve thought through all of the possibilities and this is the best solution. I’m not going to do anything to cause you unnecessary pain or embarrassment. You just have to trust me, Draco. Can you do that? Can you trust me to make the decisions for you right now, until you’re feeling better at least?”

“Okay,” Draco whispered, not knowing what else he could do.

“I know you’re scared and embarrassed, Draco, but I want you to let Madam Pomfrey examine you and heal you. If it becomes too much for you, I’m right here. All you have to do is say ‘Godfather,’ and I’ll make her stop. We’ll take a break or figure out another way to heal you, okay?”

“Okay,” Draco hesitantly replied. He still felt emotionally raw, but at least he had managed to stop weeping like a little baby.

Severus pulled out a handkerchief and ever so gently wiped the tears from Draco’s eyes. He continued to sit patiently and gently comforted him until Draco finally calmed his breathing back down to normal. “I’m going to let her back in now, okay, Draco? Then I’ll help her examine you, and we’ll heal your wounds so you won’t be in so much pain. You’ll feel better when some of the pain is gone.”

He left Draco alone for a few minutes. Draco tried to shut off the flood of worries and thoughts that were still rushing through his mind. Severus was protecting him now. He just had to try and relax and obey Severus, and then everything would be okay. He could hear the sound of Severus and Madam Pomfrey whispering in the hall. Draco couldn’t make out their words, but from their tone, it sounded like Severus was issuing instructions. For some reason it made Draco feel a little bit better to know that Severus was clearly the one in charge here.

They reentered the room, Severus first with Madam Pomfrey right behind him. She acted as if nothing had happened at all. “Are you breathing better now?” she asked. The concern in her voice had to be fake. Why would she care about him?

“It’s fine,” Draco said shortly.

She gave him a small smile, which Draco was also sure was fake, and then said, “I think that it would be best if we discuss the injuries and curses your father gave you. I need to be sure that the healing spells I use don’t counteract badly with any of the curses your father has on you. And, knowing the full extent of the injuries will help me prioritize them. So, why don’t you tell me everything he did to you? Let’s start with the purely physical injuries please.”

Draco groaned. She couldn’t be serious. It was almost as if she had tried to think of the most embarrassing thing she could make him do. Why didn’t he just provide a list to Potter while he was at it? Surely, Severus would tell her to just get on with the healing, but he didn’t. He sat back in the reading chair and loosely held Draco’s hand.

“The-the ribs,” Draco croaked out. He swallowed hard, trying to relubricate his throat. “They’re still bruised. He . . . he . . .” Did he really have to describe all of this? Wasn’t it obvious just from looking at him what had happened? Severus was softly rubbing Draco’s arm and encouraging him to continue. “His staff,” he managed to say before he had to blink back a tear. He was NOT going to cry in front of her anymore. He resolved himself to be strong, and he worked on numbing himself to it all, as he often did before a punishment. “He beat my whole back and sides with the staff,” he was now able to clearly say. “My cheek, too,” he remembered and absent-mindedly ran his fingertips up to the bruised area on his face again. Pomfrey had conjured a notebook and quill and was taking notes on every word Draco said. “He-he gave me tw-twelve with the cane the next day.” He hated that his voice was so unsteady, and that it cracked and stuttered as he became more embarrassed. “I couldn’t stay quiet through it, so he gave me twelve more later that night. He paddled me, a lot, I don’t know how many.” Draco paused to think if he had left anything out. No, that covered it. Everything else involved magic.

“Thank you, Draco,” Madam Pomfrey said while making her final notes. “Now onto the harder part, magical curses. If you know the name of the curse, you can just tell me that. However, I’m assuming that there will be ones you don’t know, so in that case, you can just describe what he did and what effect the curse had on you.”

Draco hesitated. The first curse was obvious, but he didn’t want to mention it. He didn’t want to get his father in any more trouble than he was already in. Severus sensed his dilemma and answered for him, “The Cruciatus.”

Draco tried to move on and not think about how he had just admitted that his father had performed an Unforgivable Curse on a child. “Burning charms on my thighs,” he whispered, trying to get his voice back. “There’s another one; I don’t know the name of the spell, but he used his wand in a whip-like motion, and it made stripes across my back like a whip.”

“The Ridusplinter,” Severus responded quickly. Draco wasn’t sure if Severus said it because Pomfrey wouldn’t be familiar with the dark spell or if it was just to save Draco from having to go into further detail.

Draco tried to think if there was anything else before he mentioned the last curse his father had cast on him. “The belt,” he whispered softly. Those welts were by far the most painful injury on his body now that his ribs were healed.

“The belt?” Madam Pomfrey asked, clearly confused about how the belt was a magical curse.

“I don’t know . . . he did . . . some curse on the belt . . . I . . . it burns.” Draco tried to think of a way to describe what he was feeling without further humiliating himself. Unable to think of anything he finally admitted the truth. “I . . . I know what a belting normally feels like. He cast a spell on the belt before he beat me with it . . . it made the welts burn. The belt always really hurts, but it’s not supposed to burn.”

Madam Pomfrey cast an inquisitive glance at Severus, the better expert on dark magic. She clearly didn’t know what that curse was. But, Severus shook his head as well. Neither of them seemed to know what spell Lucius could have cast. “He cast the curse on the belt itself, not on your back?” Severus tried to clarify.

“Yes,” Draco whispered, wishing they could just stop talking about it. Talking about it seemed to accentuate the pain.

They both appeared to be at a complete loss. Severus finally admitted, “I’ll have to do some research to figure out what he did, Draco. There are plenty of spells that can cause an object to burn someone, but most of them cause burns to cover a person’s entire body. And, I can not think of a one that would allow your father to still touch the belt without being burnt himself. Potions can be added to an object to make it burn, but you said he used a curse. He must have modified one. Don’t worry, Draco, I’ll figure it out, but for now, let’s move on.”

“I think that’s it,” Draco whispered, feeling a little concerned. Severus’ face rarely betrayed his emotions, but Draco could tell right then that he was worried about the burning welts. They might not be able to fix the most painful injury. Draco had assumed that it would eventually heal on its own, but what if it didn’t?

“What about the fever and the cough?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“I don’t know. I just woke up with it one day,” Draco explained.

“Okay, we’ll have to do a series of tests to determine the cause of that, then. But, at least now I know what types of counteractions I need to be aware of when I heal you. I think it would be best if I start by performing some tests on the cuts and bruises on your back and bottom. Roll over onto your stomach for me,” she commanded.

Draco reluctantly attempted to obey even as his pulse quickened. This was the part he was dreading the most. Just the thought of the humiliation he would feel when she saw the full extent of his injuries was overwhelming to him. He tried to roll onto his stomach, but he found that the bruises on his ribs still seared in pain when they came into contact with the mattress. From the previous encounters with his father, Draco had learned how to turn ever so slightly to one side to lessen the pain. He quickly moved to that position, putting more weight on his left side. He even wrapped his arms around his pillow and buried his face there as he had before; he didn’t want her seeing his tears either. From somewhere that seemed far away he thought he heard Severus’ voice informing him that Madam Pomfrey was going to remove his clothes. Despite his best attempts at controlling himself, Draco began to tremble.

To his surprise, Madam Pomfrey did not ask Draco to pull down his pants or raise his top. She cast the exact same spell that Lucius had used to strip him when he was too weak to do it himself. In an instant he was lying there naked, his injuries on display. Draco felt the familiar tingling of humiliation at being stripped in this way and a similar anxiety as to what was going to happen next. What was she going to do to him? Was it going to hurt? Draco heard voices again; Pomfrey and Severus this time. But again, they seemed to be coming from somewhere else. He could barely even make out the words. Suddenly, Draco felt the recognizable chill of a wand being pulled on him and some sort of magic being cast. All sense of reality seemed to disappear. He was lying on his stomach in the punishment position; his welts were already burning with pain; and a wand was pointed at him. Draco’s feverish mind took him to the place these events had occurred before. He was alone in his bed at Malfoy Manor awaiting the punishment his father said he deserved.

Draco let a long sob escape his throat as his body began to convulse even harder. “No . . . please,” he cried out, knowing that begging wouldn’t help. His father never showed any leniency. Crying meant further punishment. But, Draco couldn’t control himself. He began thrashing, trying desperately to get out of the position. “Please . . . please . . . no more . . . please . . . I’m sorry . . . please . . . please . . .”

“Draco,” he heard in a soothing familiar voice. He recognized it as Severus’. Maybe his hallucination could hold him through the worst of the beating as he had before. Draco latched onto that hope.

“Godfather!” he cried, still sobbing.

The next thing Draco knew, strong arms were pulling him onto his side, and then Severus had his arms around him. His godfather was holding him. “Draco . . .”he repeated.

“Please . . . don’t let him hurt me . . . please, Godfather, please . . .” Draco cried.

“Draco, look at me,” Severus interrupted him. “Your father isn’t here. Madam Pomfrey and I were trying to heal you.”

“Don’t let him hurt me,” Draco pleaded again, lost in his own world of terror.

“Shh, Draco, I’ve got you,” Severus reaffirmed. “No one is going to hurt you. Feel me touching you? I’m real. I’m here to protect you. No one is going to hurt you.” Severus touched one of the injuries on Draco’s back. The pain it caused brought Draco back into reality, and he suddenly realized where he really was.

That did little to calm his panic, though, as he realized that he had just completely broken down, that he was lying naked, and that he was crying like a baby in front of Madam Pomfrey. Overcome by shame, Draco buried his head into Severus’ shoulder and sobbed over and over again “I’m sorry . . . I’m sorry . . . I’m sorry.” He had messed up yet again.

“Calm down for me, Draco,” Severus tried to soothe. But, Draco couldn’t. His sick and injured body couldn’t stop shaking; his traumatized brain couldn’t help but think of what punishment he must deserve for this. Severus held him tight, and Draco tried his hardest to obey his godfather and calm down, but nothing they did could relax him. Eventually, Draco heard Severus ask Madam Pomfrey for a Calming Draught.

“With a fever of unknown origin?” she asked with disbelief. “You know as well as I do that isn’t safe. There are several poisons that cause a fever that can result in quite a bad reaction if a Calming Draught is given to a patient.”

“We are going to have to take the chance,” Severus said.

Reluctantly, Madam Pomfrey pulled a tray of potions from her medical cart. She pulled out one of the many glass vials, removed the stopper, shook her head, and then handed it to Severus.

Severus turned his attention to Draco. “Drink this for me, Draco,” he commanded.

Draco gasped slightly as the vial was held in front of him. Although he had heard Madam Pomfrey and Severus speaking over him, he had been too lost in his own pain to comprehend the meaning of their words. His deep-seeded fears made him reach his own conclusion about the contents of the vial. It had to be a poison . . . to punish him for his lack of self-control. Draco knew he deserved it. Severus had been so lenient with him so far, but his latest breakdown was certainly deserving of a severe punishment. He knew better than to let someone else see his weakness. Draco whimpered softly as he thought of the pains drinking a potion could cause. He momentarily considered begging his godfather not to make him take it, but despite the panic still overwhelming him, Draco trusted Severus. If Severus said he deserved this, then he would obey. He had agreed to let Severus make the decisions. Apprehensively, Draco parted his lips and let the potion slide down his throat. He waited for some sort of pain to start, but he only had to wait for a moment before the potion took effect. The anxiety and terror seemed to just leave him. His body went limp, the tension gone. He felt relaxed, safe, and warm being held in Severus’ arms.

Behind them, Madam Pomfrey let out a sigh. “Well, at least we can rule out a few causes of the fever.” She handed some cool washcloths to Severus. “Take these. They might bring down his temperature some. I think his high fever could be at least partially responsible for his delusional state.”

“How are you feeling?” Severus asked, as he gently wiped the wet cloth across Draco’s sweaty forehead.

“Safe,” Draco whispered the first word that came to mind. “But, my body still hurts,” he admitted. The Calming Draught had alleviated all of his fears, but he was still quite capable of feeling the tremendous pain his body was in. Without the worry of embarrassment, he admitted it openly.

“I know,” Severus said. “We’re going to do something about that now. Would it be okay if Madam Pomfrey resumes the tests on your back now, Draco?”

Draco gave his consent and relaxed in Severus’ arms as Madam Pomfrey continued her exam. Severus held him as she performed various tests to try to determine the cause of Draco’s burning welts and his fever. The attempts must have been unsuccessful, because after what seemed quite a long time she informed them that she was going to move on to healing some of the simpler wounds. Draco knew he should still be embarrassed, but the potion made him not care. The pain would disappear as some of the injuries healed directly from Madam Pomfrey’s spells, but several of them required the application of magical salves that would take some time to heal. The feeling of having some of the pain disappear was indescribable. Parts of his body had been aching for so long; it actually felt like the pain had become a part of him. But, having that pain suddenly lessened or removed felt . . . cleansing, freeing, amazing? Draco couldn’t come up with the right words to describe it.

She had been applying creams, performing magical counter-curses, and casting advanced healing spells on his wounds for a long time. Finally, she spoke. “Severus, I’m concerned. Even these simpler wounds aren’t healing as I would expect them to. If I perform a healing spell on the basic injuries much longer than normal, they do heal, but it is odd that they are requiring so long. I’m actually quite worried about the deeper wounds that normally require some time to heal. I think I’ve done as much as I can on those for now, though. I’m going to try some basic techniques to see if anything has an effect on the welts from the belt.”

It was at that moment that Draco first felt the Calming Draught wearing off. Anxiety began creeping back into his mind. She had not only seen the severity of his injuries, but she had examined, touched, and worked on curing every single welt. She knew exactly how hard his father had been forced to deliver each and every blow. She would, of course, reach the logical conclusion and know just how very bad he had been to make his own father beat him like that. Shame and fear began to fill him again as the effects of the Calming Draught receded. His hands began to tremble slightly and his breath came in short little gasps as the emotions began to take over again.

Severus was prepared for it, though. From the beginning he had held Draco and whispered words of comfort into his ear. As the potion wore off, Severus held Draco a little tighter and continued with his stream of reassurances. Draco tried to focus on the care Severus was showing him. He tried to relax himself with deep breaths, as Severus suggested, and he worked to push all of the worries out of his mind so he could let himself accept Severus’ comfort. All that he really wanted was for someone to actually care about him, but deep down Draco knew he didn’t deserve affection. His most wonderful fantasy was just to be comforted and loved by his godfather, but he thought that if Severus knew what he had done to earn the burning welts, then his godfather wouldn’t be holding him or comforting him. He’d be lecturing him about how much he had deserved it, if not punishing him further himself. Draco tried to make that voice in his head stay quiet so he could just enjoy being held; but his worries, fears, and anxieties were on the brink of overwhelming him again.

Somehow Severus sensed that. “I think that’s enough for now.”

“But, we still haven’t found a way to heal these awful welts, nor have we determined the cause of his fever,” Madam Pomfrey protested.

“I know but, we aren’t making much progress, and Draco’s ready for a break.” Severus lowered Draco from his embrace back to lying on the bed.

“Of course, Severus,” Madam Pomfrey conceded. “Let me just treat the bruise on his cheek. I was saving it for last, so he could stay focused on you.”

Her hand seemed to come out of nowhere to Draco. It was suddenly right by his cheek, and instinct took over. Draco flinched and jerked his head away, fearing a blow.

“Draco, I just told you I was going to touch your cheek,” Madam Pomfrey said.

Tears filled Draco’s eyes as he realized how stupid he had to look to her. “Sorry,” he whispered quickly.

“It’s okay, Draco,” Severus quickly stepped in. “It may be easier for him if I heal this particular injury, Madam Pomfrey. Could you walk me through what I need to do?”

Madam Pomfrey instructed Severus on applying the appropriate salve but insisted upon casting the activation spell herself. Still, Draco let himself relax just a little as a bony, potion-stained thumb gently massaged the cream along his bruised cheekbone. Severus definitely made him feel cared for, whether he deserved to be or not.

“He is healing slowly, isn’t he?” Severus questioned as Madam Pomfrey held the spell much longer than was typical for a simple bruise. When the bruise finally did fade, Severus sat back in his chair with a concerned look on his face. His jaw was set in a firm scowl, and his eyes had a distant glaze to them. Draco immediately knew that Severus was deep in contemplation, but he doubted that Madam Pomfrey had picked up on the subtle clues that signaled this.

“Why don’t I see if Minerva can make some soup for dinner?” Madam Pomfrey suggested. She received no response, but headed toward the door anyway. As she was about to walk out, she turned back with a sudden idea. “Draco, did Lucius give you anything with an unusual taste or odor to eat or drink?”

Draco shook his head.

“Well, there are several poisons that cause fever that are odorless and tasteless. I shall focus my efforts on detecting those,” she suggested.

Draco shook his head again. “He never gave me anything to eat or drink. The only thing I had was water, but Mother brought that to me, and she wouldn’t have . . .” his voice drifted off, unwilling to admit that his father would have deliberately poisoned him.

“You haven’t had anything to eat since the feast?” Madam Pomfrey asked in alarm. “No wonder your body isn’t healing properly, even with the appropriate magical remedies. It needs nutrients, Draco,” she scolded.

“Are you sure, Draco?” Severus asked firmly as his gaze suddenly returned to the room.

“Mother wouldn’t,” Draco reaffirmed. She was cold, but not cruel like his father. She wouldn’t have deliberately poisoned him. “And, besides, I always felt better after Mother gave me some water, not worse.”

A slight twitch in Severus’ brow made Draco realize he must have said something important; although, he had no idea what it was. “Yes,” was all Severus said. After a pause he repeated “Are you certain he never made you drink anything?”

“I . . .” Draco was about to repeat his answer when a vague memory of his father holding a glass to his lips appeared. But, it didn’t seem real. That had to have been one of his hallucinations, like when he had imagined Severus caring for him. Of course, there had been a few times when he had thought that his mother was an illusion, but she had actually been there. There were several times when reality had seemed blurred. “I . . . I blacked out a lot,” he finally admitted. “It’s . . . it’s possible.”

“What are you thinking, Severus?” Madam Pomfrey asked, reentering the room.

“Draft of Nindixis,” Severus whispered.

Madam Pomfrey gasped. “He wouldn’t . . .”

Severus arched an eyebrow at her, cast a meaningful glance at Draco, then returned his stare to her. “He would.”

“That would explain the fever, cough, and prolonged healing time,” she reluctantly admitted. “Are you having hallucinations, Draco?”

Draco felt ashamed to acknowledge it. Having hallucinations seemed a sign of weakness, but he could tell that an honest answer was important to determining if Severus’ theory was accurate. He nodded.

“But, why? Why use such a dangerous poison on his son?” Madam Pomfrey questioned further. “If he wanted to make him sick, there are plenty of other potions that cause illness. There are others that cause hallucinations. Why choose something so deadly, and difficult to obtain?”

“Because Lucius wants to be in control . . . in control of Draco, in control of his pain and his healing, in control of me. Draft of Nindixis would allow him to administer small amounts of antidote without fully curing him, so that he could choose when and how much Draco was allowed to heal. Lucius has always played one step ahead. He knew I’d find a way to try and help Draco. If I had broken into the Manor to heal him myself, the poison would have stopped me from being able to heal him at all. And if I kidnapped Draco to take him to a healer, as we have done, well . . . we have a very sick boy on our hands that’s only going to get sicker and sicker until we return him to Lucius begging for the antidote. He’s doing it to control me. He knew there was no way I’d ever be able to obtain ingredients that rare to make the antidote myself in time. He wants me to come back groveling.”

“No!” Draco suddenly exclaimed as he struggled to sit up despite his dizziness.

“There’s something he hadn’t planned on, though, Draco. Your mother’s involvement. I’m sure he was slipping the antidote into the water she gave you, which means he has a store of it somewhere. He would have had a large quantity ready, enough to fully cure you, in case he decided to take you to a healer himself. Narcissa will be able to find it and get it to me in time.”

“I hope so, Severus,” Madam Pomfrey expressed her concern. “I’ll write to Narcissa right away. If she can send me his glass, even if it’s been emptied, I’ll be able to at least confirm our suspicions. I pray she can find the antidote, because I doubt that even St. Mungo’s has all of those rare ingredients in storage. I will send some secretive inquiries, just in case. In the mean time I’ll have Minerva bring up some food and let you take care of Draco.” She gave Draco one last worried smile before leaving.

The weary expression of worry and exhaustion did not leave Severus’ face. After a moment of rest he cast the spell to return Draco’s pajamas, and then sat back in the chair with his arm loosely holding Draco’s. They remained in silence for a while with Severus gently stroking Draco’s arm. They were both exhausted; too tired to talk about the many emotions they were feeling. But, Draco didn’t mind. He didn’t feel like talking anymore.

It wasn’t long before Professor McGonagall came upstairs levitating a tray of soups and crackers. She handed Severus one of the bowls, and then levitated the tray over to Draco’s bed. Draco was relieved when she left them alone to eat in peace. Severus helped Draco sit up a little in the bed, and propped him up on some pillows so that he could eat. Sitting up even that little bit on a soft mattress really hurt his remaining welts, but it was necessary to be able to eat. Draco slowly swallowed a few spoonfuls. He was hungry; he hadn’t eaten in days. But, he found himself feeling full after only a fraction of the soup was gone. He thought of Madam Pomfrey’s admonishment about his body’s need for nutrients, but he didn’t think he could force down even another spoonful. He could feel his eyelids getting heavy. It had been a long and difficult day, his body was still very sore and feverish, and after having eaten for the first time in days, he was exhausted.

“Feel like falling asleep, now?” Severus asked as he removed the tray from Draco’s bed and sat it aside. Draco nodded slightly, his eyelids fluttering already. Severus helped Draco lean forward and removed the pillows propping him up. Gently, Draco eased to lie on his side. Somehow knowing what Draco needed, Severus lightly petted his hair and whispered, “Just rest now, Draco. You’re safe. I’m here. I’m going to take care of everything. It’s going to be okay. You’re safe now.”

Draco closed his eyes and allowed himself the pleasure of pretending to be in his safe place. Whenever Draco needed to rest he imagined himself lying on the couch in his godfather’s quarters at Hogwarts. It wasn’t hard to imagine himself there now, especially since he could enjoy the comfort of his godfather’s real touch and soothing voice instead of just the imaginary one in his head. It was mere minutes before he was fast asleep, dreaming of resting on the couch in Severus’ arms.

Suddenly Draco felt himself being shaken rather roughly. Then he heard the dreaded voice of his father, “Get up!”

Instantly Draco’s eyes popped open, and he bolted upright. “F-F-Father . . .” Draco stammered in confusion. He was in his godfather’s chambers at Hogwarts, his safe place. What was Lucius doing there?

“Get up,” Lucius hissed at him again. “It’s time to accept your punishment, Draco.” He was already holding a belt doubled over in his hand. One glance at the instrument made Draco shudder.

He tried to back himself out of his father’s grasp, but the only place to go was deeper into the sofa cushions. “Se-Se-Severus,” Draco tried to cry for help, but his throat was closing off from fear, so it only came out as a faint whisper. Lucius’ hand was quickly at his neck, pulling him up. Draco swallowed hard. “Severus,” he called louder this time. He looked frantically around the room, but there was no sign of him. He started to try again, but then he glanced at his father and saw the most frightening thing of all; he was smiling.

“He isn’t coming, Draco,” Lucius informed him.

“What?” Draco questioned. Severus wouldn’t leave him alone, not as injured as he was. Draco was certain Severus just hadn’t heard him. He just had to cry louder, and his protector would be right there to help him. “Godfather!” Draco yelled as loud as he possibly could.

This actually got a laugh out of Lucius. “Who do you think let me in?” he asked with another chuckle.

“No,” Draco said, shaking his head. Severus wouldn’t let his father near him. He had said he was safe now, that he didn’t have to be hurt anymore. He knew Severus wouldn’t just let Lucius hurt him again. “Godfather!” he screamed even louder. He reached into his pockets, praying his panic button was still in there.

“He isn’t coming, because I told him all about what you’ve done. You know what I’m talking about, don’t you?” Lucius asked quietly.

Draco stopped struggling and reluctantly nodded his head. He did know what he had done. “The Ministry search,” he admitted.

“Exactly,” Lucius affirmed. “How do you think he reacted when I informed him that you were responsible for someone from the Ministry raiding our secret chamber, hmmmm? That chamber has secrets about him, too, Draco, secrets about all of the Death Eaters, in fact. How do you think he reacted when he learned that you betrayed us all and nearly blew his cover as a true spy for our side?”

“I . . . I . . .” Draco stuttered. He hadn’t really thought about the impact the discovery of some of the secret materials would have had on Severus.

“Well, let me tell you, he was furious. He said you deserved every blow I gave you, and then he let me in here and left.”

“No,” Draco pleaded as he started to cry. He tried to hold back the tears; he knew they would enrage his father, but he just couldn’t help it. The tears streamed down his cheeks as he realized that he had just lost the trust and concern of the only person that had ever really cared about him. He was coughing, sobbing, and struggling for air. “If he would just let me explain . . .” he cried in a strangled and hushed voice. He had never meant for anyone from the Ministry to hear about the room.

“Explain what?” Lucius demanded. “That you will betray anyone, including your family, like it’s nothing? Like how you betrayed your own father, joined his enemies, and had him locked in Azkaban? You endangered Severus when you revealed the location of that room, and he is not going to just forgive you for that. And I am not going to just forgive you for your betrayal of me. Since I am your father it is my job to correct you, so Draco, assume the position,” Lucius commanded.

Hopelessness flooded over Draco as he resigned himself to the whipping he had coming.
The feeling of loss he felt at losing Severus’ concern was worse than his fear of the impending pain. His whole body trembled as he mindlessly went through the motions of slowly turning around and lowering his pants. The ache in his heart was overwhelming as he bent over the couch into the proper punishment position for his father. He needed Severus . . . even if he allowed the punishment to go on but would just hold his hand . . . or even if he just came back to tell him how many licks he would have to take to be forgiven . . . “God-Godfather . . . Godfather please . . . please,” he cried as he braced himself for the first stroke. Lucius didn’t comment on his outburst, but instead delivered the first stroke of the belt full force into his bottom. It was quickly followed by several more stinging blows. Draco screamed as the belt crashed into the welts that still burned from his previous lashings. Completely desperate, Draco just started crying, “Godfather, please . . . I’m so-so-sorry . . . please . . . I’m sorry . . . PLEASE just come back . . . please . . . please don’t leave me . . . please . . . please don’t leave me . . . GODFATHER PLEASE!”

The last lash from the belt was so intense, Draco nearly passed out from the pain. As he gasped for air, he was shocked to hear Severus’ voice. “Shhhh, shhh, Draco, calm down. I’m right here.”

Draco opened his eyes and was amazed to see that Severus was sitting right next to him, holding his hand. He noticed that he was not at Hogwarts, but in the bedroom where Severus had brought him to heal. He looked up into his godfather’s eyes and saw he wasn’t angry at all; he looked worried about him. Draco was so relieved to see that look of concern from his godfather again that he flung himself up and wrapped his arms tightly around Severus’ neck. He found himself sobbing into Severus’ shoulder.

“Draco, it was just a nightmare; I’m right here. Everything is okay,” Severus reassured him as he returned the embrace while gently trying to avoid hurting Draco’s injuries.

Draco’s cries of relief turned into cries of fear. Severus was right there, but for how long? His hallucination had been founded in truth. If Severus knew how bad he had been, if he knew all that he had done . . . Draco felt it was impossible that Severus would forgive him, especially if he knew all of the horrible mistakes he had made. But, Draco needed him, he had to try. “I’m so-so-sorry,” he whimpered between sobs. “Please, don’t leave me . . . I’m sorry, please . . . Godfather, please forgive me . . . please don’t leave me . . . I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry . . .”

“Shhh,” Severus soothed as he put a chilled washcloth on the back of Draco’s neck. “Your fever is spiking, and the poison made you have a vivid nightmare. That’s all. Everything is fine. It was just a nightmare.”

“You don’t know what I’ve done,” Draco admitted in despair. He was trying to let himself enjoy the hug, enjoy the feeling of Severus’ cool skin on his burning hot cheek, but he felt like he was holding onto him for dear life. At any minute Severus would be ripped away from him once he learned the truth.

“Shhh, Draco, what is it you think you’ve done?” Severus questioned in a slightly more serious tone.

Draco attempted to swallow, but found a painful lump in his throat. In his nightmare he had been desperate to explain to Severus, and this was his chance to admit to everything but to explain it so Severus would understand. However, now that the chance had arrived, Draco found he had lost his voice. He couldn’t bring himself to vocalize how he had betrayed Severus’ trust, not only by revealing the location of the hidden room, but also by not always being honest with Severus about his father’s threats. He coughed and sobbed as he tried to think of the right words to say.

After quite a long pause for an answer, Severus interrupted Draco’s desperate thoughts. “Shhhhh, it doesn’t matter. Whatever you think you’ve done, it doesn’t matter. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere. It’s okay; you don’t have to tell me.”

Severus tried to comfort Draco, but Draco couldn’t believe his godfather’s words. How was it possible that Severus didn’t care about how bad he had been? He was certain that if Severus knew the truth, he would at the very least decide to punish him. Draco’s sobs continued and his body began to shake violently as he once again considered what would happen if Severus knew the whole truth.

“I don’t care what you did. That’s what love is all about. Draco, I love you as if you’re my own son. That means I will always forgive you for your mistakes. I’ll always care about you, Draco. No matter what you do, I’ll always be here for you.”

Draco felt the tension leave his body at his godfather’s words. He relaxed into Severus’ embrace. As he pondered if it were truly possible for someone to love another without conditions attached, he drifted back to sleep.

Author's Note: This story WILL be continued. Thank you for your patience for this update. Please leave a comment and let me know what you thought.