Weakness

Weakness

It was when Draco was sitting under a tree near the lake, crying, his one moment of weakness, that none other than Harry Potter found him. Draco sensed, rather than saw Potter walk up behind him and immediately tensed. The fact that the infamous Draco Malfoy was crying would be around the entire school by tomorrow - so much for his reputation.

Draco waited for the other boy to sneer at him and start to gloat at how pathetic he looked, but nothing came. Harry just continued to stand behind him, not saying anything. Draco gave in.

“What do you want, Potter?” Draco spat but lacked his usual venom.

The silence stretched on and Draco began to get frustrated. What was this boy playing at?

He spun around, clearly expecting to see Potter sneering down at him, waiting for him to turn so he could spit an insult or two in his face. But when Draco looked up to the face of the Boy Who Lived, there was nothing like that. Rather Harry seemed curious, compassionate and understanding.

“I was just wondering why you were upset, Draco.”

Harry’s voice was soft and considerate which shocked Draco more that the other boy using his given name. He wondered briefly if Potter had an ulterior motive for being nice.

“What would you care, Potter? I know that as soon as you leave you’re going to tell all of Gryffindor about me crying, blubbering like a baby. Why don’t you just get out of here and mind your own business!”

Draco turned back around and hid his face in his hands. He tensed once again when Potter sat down next to him. Why couldn’t the Golden Boy just leave him alone?

“Listen, Draco everybody gets upset and there is always a reason why. Sometimes it helps to talk about it… and, well…”

“And what, Potter? You want to be my Fairy Godmother and solve all my problems. Whatever.”

Harry sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I might not be able to solve you problems, but telling someone about how your feeling helps. But if you want to be a pompous arse, then just forget it.”

Potter made to get up but Draco halted his retreat by grasping onto his arm.

“Look, I’m sorry. I’m just not good at this whole talking thing. No one has ever really cared enough to listen to me.” Draco found that he couldn’t look at Harry while he spoke, but admittedly he did feel like telling his terrible truth to someone.

Harry sat back down.

There was silence again for some moments while Draco worked up the courage to begin his tale, and Harry waited patiently until he was ready.

“I honestly don’t know where to start, so… I’m just going to blurt it out…” It wasn’t the Malfoy way, but then again, neither was spilling dirty secrets that have the potential to hold him in eternal blackmail!

“My father abuses me and my mother is oblivious to it all!”

Silence again.

Draco couldn’t tell if talking was now such a good idea. Potter was going to use this bit of information and grind him into the dirt and never let him climb back out from under his foot. It felt like Harry Potter now held his whole life in his hand and could crush him like a bug. He couldn’t stand it any more; Draco got up and began to walk away, noiseless tears continued to role down his face. He couldn’t believe how stupid he had been. It was like adding insult to injury – and injury he had, thanks to his father.

He had only walked a few paces when he felt a hand gently touch his lower back. Pressure was put on that hand and before he knew it, Draco had been pulled into a warm and comforting embrace forcing him to release all of his pent up emotion.

Neither boy knew how long they stood there for, standing alone, holding one another in the middle of Hogwarts grounds.

When Draco finally looked up to emerald green eyes, a kind of strength welled in his stomach and it didn’t seem that hard to keep talking to his once hated rival.

Harry smiled kindly at the blonde. “Lets go for a walk.”

The Slytherin and Gryffindor walked and talked for hours. Draco told Harry about how his father had been abusing him physically, mentally and sexually ever since he was little. “My father’s favourite game was when he would sneak into my room and start touching me while I was asleep. The touches were so gentle that I would wake up to the impression that he loved me. Then I would realise what was going on, try to fight him off, and that’s when he would get rough. Tying me up and forcing me to…”

In return Harry spilled a few of his own secrets, indirectly telling the other boy that he could be trusted with these confessions. “I guess I could say my uncle abused me too. He loved to call me a freak and throw me into my cupboard, leaving me there for days without food. Sometimes my aunt would give me water, but then she would sneer at me and say I deserved everything I got!”

A form of trust was forged between the previous enemies only to grow as time went on.

Throughout the rest of the boy’s sixth year the friendship was sustained and grew. On Draco’s request they kept the entire thing secret, but both found that it helped to have someone to talk to about anything.

By the time the end of the school year came around Draco had admitted to Harry that he didn’t know how he would survive without Harry for two whole months. Harry threw out the outrageous idea that if they spent the summer at the Malfoy Manor together, that maybe Lucius would ease up on the abuse, not wanting the wizarding public to find out what he was truly like. And it would also ensure that Harry wouldn’t have to suffer through the Dursley’s constant chores.

Of course Dumbledore would never have allowed Harry to stay at Malfoy Manor, not with the risk of Lucius being a potential Death Eater, so they worked out a plan. Nothing was said, no indication that they had formed some sort of bond was given, and they acted like their usual selves on the train. Then, on the Platform Harry waited for the Dursley’s to show, knowing that they wouldn’t (sending them a letter by owl a few days earlier telling them not to come) until the meddlesome Weasley’s disappeared, then Draco and Harry would make their way back to Malfoy Manor unseen via Portkey.

Keeping Lucius away from Draco seemed to work when Harry was around and both boy’s were very grateful, but as the days past Harry noticed that Draco seemed to become more and more tense, snapping at him for the silliest things before realising what he had done and exasperatedly apologising.

It wasn’t until they were into their third week of holidays that the worst was realised. Harry had woken up late one night for no particular reason and got up to wash his face. On his way back to bed he heard some distinct noises coming from the room next to his – Draco’s room. Harry hurriedly threw on a shirt to go with the boxes that he wore to bed and ran out of the door. He barged through Draco’s door and was frozen at the sight he stumbled across.

Lucius was on top of Draco, pinning him to the bed and obviously fucking him. Draco’s hands had been bound above his head and his legs spread apart to accommodate his father. But what Harry couldn’t fathom were the words spilling from Draco’s mouth.

“Oh! Yes, Father! Harder! Faster… Oh GOD!!”

Harry didn’t understand, but it sounded like Draco was actually enjoying what his father was doing to him. Did Lucius take some sick pleasure in casting the Imperius Curse on Draco just so he could listen to his words and willing cries, or was it something more sinister than that!

Within seconds of each other, both Malfoy’s came, screaming out their desire as they did so.

A little sound must have escaped Harry because two blonde heads turned to look in his direction.

“Oh look, father. He has finally decided to join us!”

Lucius’ only response was for an evil smile to spread across his face.

Harry came out of his self-imposed trance.

“Wh-What’s going on?”

Lucius chuckled, pulled out his wand and removed the bonds from Draco’s wrists. Harry had a vague recollection that he didn’t have his wand on him, leaving it in his trunk in the guest room, but the thought quickly flittered away when Draco sat up and shoved his tongue down his father’s throat, moaning in pleasure.

Harry doubted the Imperius curse had anything to do with it.

The raven-haired boy began to back away from the scene, groping for the door while his eyes stayed transfixed on the kissing blondes. As soon as his hands hit the wood he spun around to wrench the door open, but before he could he was hit in the back with a curse, falling backwards onto the ground in a full body bind.

Both Draco and Lucius walked over, in all their glory, to tower over Harry as unshed tears filled the green eyes, making his vision blur.

“Congratulations, Draco,” Lucius purred smiling down at their captured, “It looks like our plan worked and we finally have the Boy Who Lived. Voldemort is going to have so much fun with him.”

Draco continued to smile triumphantly throughout Lucius’ speech and excitedly kissed Lucius.

“I never got to tell you, Father, but I had the best time making up the stories about you abusing me. I think I want to role play that one day – you, big bad father coming to give your naughty little son a spanking,” Draco moaned sensually, “That would be fun, wouldn’t it, father.”

Harry would have gagged, and possibly vomited, if he was only able to move.

It wasn’t until Harry had been released from the spell, hanging by his wrists from the ceiling of one of the dungeon cells in only his boxes that he found the courage to speak.

“How?”

“Your weakness, Harry,” Draco now purred imitating his father while circling the suspended boy, “You care too much for everyone…”

And the steel door slammed shut, leaving Harry to the dark and his doom.

The End