Chapter Text
Draco grabbed the ancient house elf by the arm and dragged him into the open.
“Potter sent you,” He slurred.
“Kreacher doesn’t know what you’re talking about,” the house elf spoke.
“The war is over,” Draco rolled up his sleeve to reveal his faded death eater mark, covered in scratches, burns and cuts, “It would do to remind him of that.”
…
“I’m thinking of opening up shop again,” George announced.
“Really?” Charlie asked.
“Yeah,” George said, “I’ll need to do some dusting and re-shelving, but, yeah. I think I’m ready.”
“That’s terrific, honey,” Molly said.
“That’s what Fred would want,” Arthur added happily.
Ron came downstairs to join the family for dinner and was carrying a small bag.
“Are you sure you want to spend the whole weekend at…” Molly began.
“Mum, it’s just a few days,” Ron retorted.
“Yeah,” George teased, “What could two young adults POSSIBLY get up to over a whole weekend in a house all to themselves?”
“Be careful,” Molly said.
…
“He knows,” Harry repeated.
“Kreacher is sorry, Master.”
“It’s all right,” Harry heard the door open, “Ron’s here.”
“Harry,” The redhead greeted.
“Ron,” Harry smiled, “Hermione will be here tomorrow.”
“A whole night to ourselves?” Ron smirked.
“I might have planned it this way.”
…
Hermione arrived the next morning, as promised.
“Where are we on Draco watch?” She asked.
“Draco caught Kreacher outside the Hog’s Head,” Harry filled, “Like he’s been telling me, Draco goes there almost every day, comes out stumbling and shaking, and goes down the alley next to the bar. The other days, he just kind of disappears.”
“Apparition,” Hermione figured, “You said he was shaking?”
Harry nodded.
“We need to find him,” she stated.
…
Draco crept into an alley near the Hog’s Head, far enough away from the street so that he could meet with the person he needed to.
“I gave you the last one half-price,” The man spoke, “You want anything else, you’re gonna have to work a little harder. You’ve been slacking lately.”
“I’m sorry. Please…I’m trying…”
Draco whimpered.
“A Malfoy, begging? Pathetic.”
“I’ll do anything…”
“Anything,” The man repeated.
“Yes,” Draco seemed pained by the words, “Anything.”
The man shoved him against a wall. Hands grabbed his hips.
“What are you doing?” Draco panicked.
“You said ANYTHING,” The man taunted, “I can use you however I want now.”
The man pulled out a wand.
“No, don’t…” Draco pleaded.
“Silencio,” The man spoke.
…
“Over here,” Draco heard a whisper as three people ran down the alley toward him, “Be quiet. Wands out.”
Draco lied on the ground at the end of the alley, body completely stiff, with tear stained eyes. Not them, anyone but them. He would run if he could.
“Body bind curse,” Hermione stated.
What would they do to him? His nerves were on fire, heart racing within his frozen body. He wanted to scream.
“Draco, we’re going to unbind you,” Harry said, “But please don’t run away. We want to help.”
Help. Sure. Draco felt the stiffness leave his body, yet he couldn’t stand up. He just whimpered helplessly. He began to lose consciousness.
“We can’t leave him here,” Harry spoke.
…
“Get. Up.” What that his father’s voice? Had Potter taken him home? “I said, Get. Up.”
Draco stood up. He was on the floor. This was a nightmare.
“What do you have to say for yourself?” His father commanded.
“I…I…”
Draco flinched as Lucius grabbed his hair.
“You sniveling little shit,” His father spat, “I’ve barely layed a hand on you and you’re practically in tears.”
…
“This is the last place he’ll want to wake up,” Draco overheard Harry speak.
“At least he’ll WAKE up,” Hermione said, “He’s having withdraws, probably what was making him shake. And, when we brought him here, I saw needle marks. I think he’s been using muggle drugs.”
“Wizards have…illicit drugs?” Harry asked.
“Yes. They’re illegal, but it is a problem.”
…
Draco opened his eyes slowly, nothing that he was lying on an unfamiliar bed. Did Potter take him somewhere, to his home, maybe?
“He’s awake,” Potter’s voice, “Stay back, he won’t want to see all three of us at once.”
Draco closed his eyes when Potter entered. For his archenemy to see him like this…What does he want? And what will he do?
“Draco,” Harry spoke.
The blonde ignored the voice.
“We’re not going to hurt you,” Potter continued, “You’re at my house, twelve Grimmuald Place. Can…you tell me what happened?”
“I went into an alley with another man, Potter. Take a wild fucking guess what happened.”
“Right. Did he bind you, too?”
“Didn’t stop there.”
“Oh?”
Don’t give him any ideas.
“Cru…cruc…cruci…”
“Crucio?” Potter asked, and Draco waited for the pain to come, “Draco. I’m sorry, Draco. I won’t use the word again.”
Draco relaxed and finally reopened his eyes, not looking at Potter.
“It’s a punishment.”
“A punishment? For what, exactly?”
“Not doing a job properly.”
“He body binded and then cr…’c’ cursed you, because you didn’t do a job right?”
“Yes,” Draco answered, “I think I’m going to be sick.”
“I’ll show you the bathroom if you can get up,” Potter said, “And, you can call me Harry, if you want.”
…
The next voice he heard was female. Granger, the one he’d called ‘mudblood’.
“Evening, Draco,” She greeted.
“They sent you in here alone?” Draco quipped.
“Harry’s in the hallway,” She said, “And, I have this.”
She lifted her wand, and Draco flinched.
“Which I will not use,” she comforted.
“Why would a mud- muggle born want to speak to me?” He asked.
“Because you corrected yourself,” She smiled.
“You’re not making any sense, Granger.”
“Your parents taught you to hate,” She said, “They might have even persuaded you to become a death eater.”
“My father…was a very…persuasive man.”
Her eyes were full of understanding and sympathy. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that.
“Here,” She handed him a small vial, “For the withdraws.”
“Withdraws,” Draco scoffed.
“We’re not going to turn you in,” She assured him, “This should help with most of the symptoms.”
Draco took the vial, opened, and smelled it.
“How do I know you’re not trying to poison me?”
“Why would we poison you?”
He pointed to the scratched mark on his arm.
“Harry wouldn’t bring you here if he thought that still mattered.”
Draco nodded and downed the potion.
“Why are you helping me?” He asked.
“You need it,” She said, “When Harry saw you at the bar…”
“He sent his damn house elf to spy on me.”
“Only for a couple of weeks,” She corrected, “The guy who cursed you…”
“I owe him money,” Draco said, “He gives me a place to stay.”
“Because you can’t go home?”
“Won’t,” Draco snarled.
“Does he give you drugs, too?”
“None of your damn business, Granger!” he snapped.
Why should she get to know? Why should any of them get to know?
“Kreacher will bring dinner,” She said, and left.