Summary:When Draco Malfoy's mental health mysteriously declines, he is placed under the care of the only person he responds to: Harry Potter.
Warnings: Violence, rape, character death, mental illnesses (Dissociative Identity Disorder, Post-Traumatic Stress, Paranoid Schizophrenia), slash, Pre-HBP
There was a long silence before Draco began his story, and Harry, though extremely impatient, did not press Draco to start talking. They were cuddled up in their bed, lying beneath the blankets with a fire roaring in the hearth, and Harry thought he was just going to fall asleep when Draco cleared his throat and drew in a slightly shaky breath. “Well, this is how it happened…” And he began.
The vast corridors of the Malfoy Manor had been empty for a month–after the initial shock of the Malfoy deaths, anything with the name slowly faded out of the press–and so when thunderous footfalls echoed from the white marble walls, Draco’s eyes opened immediately. His tousled head rose from his goose down pillow, and he blinked wearily as he heard his name called. “Draco?” Cool feet fell into slippers before he padded across his large bedroom to the oak door, and he tugged the doorknob before poking his head out into the North Wing of the Manor.
Glances left and right bore no fruit, but the footsteps grew louder, and just as he decided that he was imagining it, a hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. Draco gave a terrible start and quickly took three steps backward. “Y-you!” he gasped, and he fell to his knees in shock. “Father, you’re…you’re alive…How?” He was not sure that he wanted to rise back to his feet and embrace the man, for the look in Lucius’s eyes was unlike any he had ever seen, and he found that every time he met that gaze, his heart froze.
“Rise, Draco,” Lucius whispered, his eyes slightly wider than they should have been, and he reached down to offer a hand to his son. “I was never in any danger…I took a leaf out of Barty Crouch’s book. Of course, the new guards of Azkaban saw me leaving, and there was quite a commotion, but I silenced those I could, and here I stand before you.” Draco began to reach up to take his father’s hand, but he caught sight of the marred flesh there, and he recoiled in horror. “Oh, that…It’s nothing, my son…Come now, take it.”
If Draco thought his father was acting strangely, he did not act upon it, and he placed his unscarred hand into his father’s. He saw something flash in Lucius’s eyes, and before he knew what was happening, he was being shoved against the wall, his toes dangling three inches above the floor. “Father!” he yelped, pain ripping through his shoulder-blades as they pressed into a picture frame. “What are you—”
“Listen to me, you little shit,” Lucius hissed, pressing very close to Draco and glaring at him. “You will obey my every command or you’ll meet the same messy fate as your mother. Got it?!” His voice was higher than it should have been, his eyes so wide that Draco could see the whites all around his irises, and a slow realization came over Draco.
“SILENCE!” Lucius threw back his free hand and punched his son as hard as he could in the stomach. Draco gagged and vomited immediately, bile dripping down his chin being the last thing he registered before that fist drew back again, and Draco was unconscious.
He woke up in a cage. It was no larger than a dog crate, and he did not move for fear that Lucius might be in the room. He listened hard to his surroundings, hearing no breathing, and so he lifted his head to look around. He was in the basement of the Malfoy Manor, his chin dry and crusty with what he assumed was his vomit from earlier, and he moved to swipe angrily at it with his sleeve only to discover that he was completely nude. His fingers pressed gingerly into his stomach, and he winced to find it incredibly sore. “Damn it,” he moaned to himself, and he shivered. He heard the door at the top of the stairs open, and he immediately fell still, eyes closed tightly. He was terrified.
“Oh, Draco, are we playing opossum?” Lucius crooned to his son, and Draco heard a key in the lock of his cage before the door swung open. He tried not to move—if Lucius thought he was truly asleep, maybe he would leave him alone—but Lucius reached into the cage and seized him underneath his arms, pulling him out and slinging him over his shoulder. Draco wanted to vomit again, but he managed to hold it in, and he thought wildly for a moment before he lifted a fist and struck Lucius as hard as he could in the man’s lower back. There was a yell, but Lucius did not drop him, instead tightening his grip on Draco’s body so hard that Draco cried out in pain. “You little shit,” Lucius whispered, and he gave a maniacal laugh that froze Draco’s blood.
A few moments later, Draco found himself being thrown into the floor of his father’s study, naked and quivering as he stared into the blank faces of his father’s friends. They must have escaped with him. “Look, men,” Lucius whispered, and he gestured to his son. “He pays not for the sins he has committed. He must understand what he has done.” There was a murmur of assent that flew around the circle, and Draco rose shakily to his feet. Agony shot through his ankles and caused him to crumple again—his ankles had been broken in his sleep.
“Leave me alone!” he shouted, and he gestured to one of the Death Eaters. “You’re allowing yourself to be influenced by a madman! What are you thinking! Get out of here!” It was a desperate and utterly ridiculous statement, for he knew that they would not heed his words. There came a quiet laughter from Lucius, and it spread as quickly as the murmurs earlier had. Draco wanted to weep, but he steeled himself for the worst as the Death Eaters gathered around him drew their wands. His hands and feet were bound, the ropes on his ankles causing him more pain that they would have had the bones not been broken. He heard the Cruciatus curse whispered a moment before agony ripped through his entire body, the sensation of knives cutting into every inch of his flesh making him open his mouth and screech. Malicious laughter echoed off the walls, and the curse was lifted.
He slumped to the floor and heaved a deep, heavy sob as he felt hands on him, and squeezed his eyes shut tightly as he was lifted from his stomach and placed on his elbows and knees. He tried to struggle, but several more pairs of hands seized him, and he buried his face in the brook of his elbow as he heard robes hit the floor. How had he got into this? How could this possibly be happening to him?
Draco paused in his story and shuddered at the remembrance of what was to happen next. It was something he had been trying not to think about since it occurred, something that had been eating away at him for months. He wondered wildly for a moment whether or not Harry would still love him after this, whether or not Harry would still find him attractive and beautiful, and he considered just cutting his story off there. Harry smiled softly, encouraging him, and he seemed to sense Draco’s reluctance to go on, for he leaned over and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Draco,” he whispered, and he met the blond’s eyes. “It’s all right…”
Draco’s lower lip trembled as he gazed into Harry’s green eyes, and he took a deep breath before he went on.
Hands were all over him, touching him, caressing him in places he never, ever wanted his father’s friends to touch. He heard a sharp laugh from Rosier, and suddenly, he felt something hard and velvety warm against his arse, and he squeezed his eyes closed. “Leave me alone,” he whimpered into his arm, unable to move due to the hands holding him, and a great wave of relief washed over him when he heard his father’s cool voice announce that he had had enough of that. Draco’s skin was bare of hands again, and he lifted his head shakily to look his father in the eyes, only to find that Lucius was standing completely nude, a nasty smirk on his face as he held his half-hard prick in his hand. “Father…?”
“Do you know why your mother killed herself with a Muggle gun?” he asked maliciously. “Do you?” Draco shook his head and felt tears welling up in his eyes as Lucius stroked himself to full arousal. He knew what was going to happen, and it made him sick. “I had her under Imperius, you know…I knew you’d come running once she wrote to you, and since you’ve been a very, very bad boy, I thought I would welcome you home in a shower of red…” He snickered and looked around to his comrades before he leaned down and pushed Draco over onto his back. He crawled over him and sneered before he bit hard onto Draco’s lower lip and caused him to give a yelp. “You should have come to break me out, Draco…”
The Death Eaters catcalled as Lucius retracted the binds on Draco’s ankles, and for a fleeting moment, Draco thought he was going to be released, but Lucius cast another binding spell that, to Draco’s horror, bound his hands and feet all together. He felt a few rough kisses on his thighs, and he squeezed his eyes closed before—
“He raped me, Harry,” Draco breathed, and his face crumpled as he buried his face in Harry’s chest. “Not just once…Fuck, he did it every day until the end of the summer! He’d feed me potions to heal my wounds from where…where he’d rip me to pieces. I needed St. Mungo’s so many times…I…” He broke off and fell quiet, lying there on Harry’s chest. He wanted Harry to move, to make some acknowledgement and stop just lying there motionless, but Harry was quite still. Draco’s legs were tangled in Harry’s, his hand resting on his lover’s right breast, and he frowned, waiting for the disgust to come forward. “I…I found a happy place in my head and…and never came out of it until you saved me, Harry.”
Harry stared up at the ceiling and frowned, his heart beating quickly in his chest. Draco had been raped…by his own father. It made Harry want to puke. He could feel Draco’s uncertainty, and he swallowed hard before he sat up a little and looked into Draco’s eyes. “Draco?” he asked quietly, and he turned the other over onto his back and brushed his fingers across the other’s face. “Listen to me.” His voice was shaky and unsure, and he slipped his fingers up into the other’s hair. “I will kill Lucius Malfoy if it’s the last thing I do. You got it?”
Draco swallowed thickly, looking up into Harry’s eyes, and something in his eyes flashed before Harry found himself gazing into the child personality’s expressive eyes. “Arcturus,” the boy breathed, and he closed his eyes as though all impurities were leaving his body, and when Draco’s eyes opened again, it was truly Draco. “Harry, what…?”
“Another one’s gone, Draco,” Harry whispered, and he crawled on top of Draco cautiously before kissing his lips softly, lovingly. “I love you, Draco.” It was the first time he had ever said it, and he saw a wave of emotion break over Draco’s face. “I do, and I’m going to avenge what he’s done with you…”
Draco’s hands lifted shakily into the air, and he cupped Harry’s cheeks in his hands before giving a shaky nod. He could not bring himself to words, but he knew that Harry knew he loved him, too. There could be no doubt in his mind.
Need to catch up?
Prologue, Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen