Author: Bell Pie toggledog@yahoo.com

Pairings: Harry/Draco

Rating: NC17. Warning- contains description of rape and other such horrible stuff.

Author’s Notes: Ok, this chapter is pretty dark and things don’t go so great for our boys but, rest assured, it will all work out well. ;) Please R&R and tell me what you think.

Prologue

The old wizard considered his socks. Though he was pleased with the warmth, he was not entirely sure of the colour. While black appeased Severus Snape, in all aspects of clothing, Dumbledore preferred foot coverings of varied colours; from bright pink with yellow flowers, to deepest mauve. But he could not complain about Severus’ gift for his birthday. He had tried, at least. Though his leaving at the end of school only gave him a few months with the Dark Lord, Dumbledore was just thankful that he was back from Voldemort’s reach and was well. (It was also heartening that he hadn’t followed Hagrid’s example and given him a Junga Fighting Fish. His finger still stung with remembrance.)

He smiled jovially at the man. Snape simply nodded. Dumbledore wouldn’t expect any different. He considered that he knew Snape, perhaps better than the Potions Master cared Dumbledore to know him. The greasy haired wizard could be unfair, unpleasant, disagreeable and even downright vicious. But there was integrity there, fed by his pained past.

Dumbledore was aware of the significance of this day. Exactly twenty years ago, Sirius Black had tricked Severus into investigating the Weeping Willow during a full moon. Snape, it appeared, never forgave Black for that. But, the old wizard also knew of the inner biting guilt under his anger at Sirius Black’s attempt on his life courtesy of Remus Lupin’s full moon changes. This anger related to an event that had occurred a few months before the Whomping Willow incident.

"That bastard saw what was happening. And he did nothing!"

What Snape didn’t know was that Black had told Dumbledore Snape’s role in what had happened. Dumbledore had not punished Snape, aware that his guilt and self-deprecation was punishment enough. Black’s fury at what he saw as this injustice had caused the attempted murder.

Thus, history repeats itself, the man mused to himself. The pressure in his head was beginning to build once more. He had removed hundreds of thoughts that day, many of them frustrated renunciations of himself for not noting any early signs of Marcus’ twisted mindset. This was compounded when he considered the father’s shaky past. Dumbledore realized that his faith in people was overwhelming his judgement. There were cases such as Draco Malfoy who, despite his father’s best efforts it seemed, was steering away from the path he had chosen for his son. But, in other cases, the child had not the courage to remold themselves away from the shape the parent wanted of them.

Severus Snape managed. Just…

"And of the other matter?" Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.

Indeed, Snape’s job when reporting as spy was now two-fold. He was to report activities of the rising Lord Voldemort and, added to this due to recent events, he was to report any information that could be valuable in Draco’s case against Marcus. Dumbledore was not a vengeful man. He did, however, resolve to have the utmost justice be done. Not only against Marcus, but his father too, even if it was to be twenty years too late. Now, it appeared this would also be an avenue into exposing the all too clever secret activities of the Dark Lord. Snape had revealed new information that Voldemort was grooming men to look like important members of the group fighting against him, in order to commit heinous acts. Dumbledore, himself, was somewhat bemused to find out that one man had turned himself bright orange with fur on his back while endeavoring to look like the great Head Master.

"Lucius was not aware that it was Voldemort who had handpicked Marcus to experiment into looking like Sirius Black" Snape’s cold dark eyes narrowed as he spoke the name of his nemesis.

"Crispin Flint still refused to acknowledge that his son was the culprit. So Voldemort ordered that Marcus be hypnotized to tell the events of that day." Snape cleared his throat, visibly straightened and closed his eyes. Dumbledore leant forward a little in his chair.

The voice that now arose from the Potion Master’s throat had a gruffness at odds to his usual velvet tone. Dumbledore was impressed that he had used the ‘Imitus’ Chant to ‘record’ the proceedings. This might have been easy to spot, if, say, one was suspicious of Snape already.

"Minutes after I changed, the little dragon and his two moronic friends stepped literally into my path. The two half-wits bolted but the dragon stayed. He seemed pretty pleased with himself, like he was glad to have caught Sirius Black." The chortle that escaped Snape’s lips was eerie in its disembodiedness. "He lifted his wand to do a binding spell, I think. I was faster. I just rebounded it back to him. Then, I figured I’d experiment a little in my new body. So I grabbed his wand out of his hand and snapped it in half. He was lying on the ground from where I had bound him. I untied him because it would be more fun if he fought back. And he did. He tried, at least. Gotta give the little bitch credit for that. So, anyway, I slapped him around for a while, you know, to build myself up for it. Then I put up the Dissolusias Field around us. Cause, you know I wasn’t having anyone or anything stopping me giving it to the whore. It wasn’t like I had planned on doing it, it was just he was there, you know? And so I tore off all his fancy robes and clothes. He was struggling and cursing me, at first. And it only got me all the more hot. I told him that and he stopped, just lay on the ground like a fucking corpse and just kind of stared forward with this really dull expression. I didn’t want that. I needed him to react to me. So I climbed on top of him and twisted his nipples and told him I was gonna fuck him so hard that I was gonna tear him wide open. Still no reaction. So I took out my cock and started to rub it over his entire body, working my way up from his ankles to his head. That worked. The little dragon started sobbing like an adolescent Norwegian Ridgeback." Again with the chuckle.

"Stop!" Severus’ voice changed once more to slightly higher pitched, more haughty and extremely distraught. "There is no need to continue. We know what we need to. Marcus did it."

"Indeed."

Dumbledore inwardly shuddered at the whispery voice now coming from Snape.

"Cease! It is obvious, Mr. Flint, that your son took it upon himself to misuse my instructions. His ravishment of the son of a Death Eater as Sirius Black risks exposure. I will therefore allow your son, Mr. Malfoy, to take him to Wizard Court, payment for Marcus’ stupid actions. If Marcus admits it was I who ordered him to look like Sirius Black, then I will kill him, as well as you, Crispin, you, Lucius and your son. This Wizard’s Court not is involve me, in any terms. One last thing, Lucius. Do not ever stop a person who is talking under my volition. I was very much enjoying hearing the details of the ravishment of Draco…I am against what happened only in that it interferes with my work and risks exposing some of my plans. You both blessed and cursed to have such a beautiful son. A part of me is proud of Marcus for taking what he desired. That is the mark of true power."

Snape’s glittering dark eyes fixed once more onto Dumbledore’s tired blue orbs.

"It is unfortunate." Dumbledore sighed. "You can prove that Marcus was acting under the orders of Voldemort to look like Sirius Black. However, if this is made public, it would expose you as spy and endanger both Draco and his father. As well as Marcus and Crispin Flint."

He stared at the socks lying between them on his desk but his mind was elsewhere. "I will deliberate on this. Thank you, Severus. Your information is valuable. I am joyful, also that you are unharmed."

"I am disgusted that I had joined such a man willingly in the past." Snape conceded. "And to hear such words spoken of Draco…"

Dumbledore’s eyes glittered under his round glasses. He was quite sure Snape was sickened by internal battles of his own. Draco was one of the few people in the whole of Hogwarts that Snape hesitantly admitted (through clenched teeth, never the less) he didn’t entirely hate, perhaps even (and this did, indeed, clenched his jaw so tight, his entire face trembled) liked.

In his time at Hogwarts, Snape was often seen with Crispin Flint and Lucius Malfoy. However, Dumbledore was quite sure Snape wasn’t fond of either of them. There was only one that had ever drawn his eye. As far as Dumbledore knew, this was the only one Snape had ever developed feelings beyond mere ‘passable’ or even ‘like’.

And this one had suffered for it.

So, he had allowed his bitterness and anger to surround him like his cloak, even allowing this troubled visage to seep over to hatred towards the one who did not reciprocate his feelings.

"Do not be surprised if Lucius changes sides." A bitter smile twisted Snape’s lips but his eyes remained cold. "For when Voldemort said that about Draco, he looked as if he was about to jump on the Dark Lord then and there and wrap his hands around his throat."

Dumbledore nodded. "I am unsurprised. For Lucius’ viciousness does not extend to his family. Indeed, he adores Draco. That is obvious."

The old wizard smiled back at the dark haired man before him. "I must again thank you for these socks. Indeed, it appears I can’t get enough. Perhaps they do fall into a Sock Vortex of which I do not have the knowledge of. I do not know of many certainties but I know of this one." He lifted the black foot coverings off the desk. "In a pair of socks, one will undoubtedly go missing."

Then he laughed at Snape’s obvious attempt to not be irritated.

***

The Cabana Club was fifties jazz based. A black painted silhouette of Miles Davis playing trumpet over looked the dance floor from the west wall. The other side of the room, perpendicular to the bar, sat cherry red booths, above which sat framed photos of famous jazz performers from the thirties to fifties, the most prized of which being a framed one metre by one metre painting of beautiful temptress of the forties, Josephine Baker. A full piece jazz band, keeping the tempo upbeat and swinging, played in the centre of the sparkling dance floor. Harry had never seen anything quite so decadent.

"Who are these people?" Draco referred to the photos above him as they squeezed into the booth.

"Muggle jazz performers."

"Muggles!" The blonde looked revolted to the core. "You took me to a muggle place!"

"Ron and I found this one night in our wanderings outside Diagon Alley. I thought I’d educate you a bit. Show you not all muggle things are bad."

Draco looked around a bit, the usual sneer developing.

"Josephine Baker’s a bit out, don’t you think?"

Harry smiled at him, impressed.

"She was more a dancer. Hey, just because I detest it, doesn’t mean I don’t have knowledge of it. Daddy says it’s important to know our enemy."

Feeling eyes on him, Harry turned his head to see a man in the corner of the bar, staring at him and smiling

"Do you think we can get a drink?" Draco asked, frowning at the bar.

"I doubt it. They’ll undoubtedly ask for muggle ID, which we obviously don’t have."

He looked at Draco, indecisive as to whether he looked his eighteen years.

Crabbe or Goyle. They’d pass for at least twenty five.

"Aren’t you boys a bit young to be in here?"

Both Harry and Draco jumped. A fortyish man stood by the table, staring down at them with penetrating green eyes.

It’s none of your damned business! Kindly leave us alone.

Harry managed to mumble a few stammered words, turning to Draco for help. Draco could only stare at the man, an expression akin to terror on his face.

The man laughed. "It’s alright." He said, mainly to Draco. "I won’t bite".

He eased himself in the booth, keeping a respectful distance from Draco.

"Where are your parents?"

"Who cares?" Draco snapped, as Harry noted the crucifix around the man’s neck.

Afraid of vampires? I know a werewolf.

He couldn’t help but repress a grin.

"So, why are you here?"

Harry was getting sick of the interrogation.

"None of your damned business, ok?"

"If I were you, I’d go. You look as though you don’t belong".

What is this guy’s problem anyway? Why can’t he leave us alone?

"Come on, Draco", Harry ordered, practically dragging him to the dance floor. "Let’s dance".

Harry glanced back to the man. He simply shrugged, then walked away, towards the bar.

"I don’t dance!" Draco glared at him.

"Just try".

With trumpets blaring, horns tooting, saxophones screeching and the deep, sexy male voice accompanying the slightly calypso beat, Harry and Draco danced alongside each other, Harry not wanting to make Draco uncomfortable by forcing him to dance with him. It was then that Harry remembered something important. Whereas Ron’s forte was in not being able to sing to save his life, Harry couldn’t dance. The beat and him were not in the same room, or Universe. Harry figured if they combined their talents of bad singing and dancing, they’d be onto something marketable.

While Draco was a little clumsy in his movement, he could at least follow the beat. There was also something sensual in the way his body followed its clumsy remonstrations to the beat. Harry noticed this and found himself staring quite openly at his lover, feeling his heart start to pound as the usual feeling of lovesickness compounded a hundred times. Unfortunately, he was not the only one to notice Draco’s dance. A few men were allowing their attraction to be noticed by dancing near the boy and staring at him in an obvious way. Harry grabbed his lover by the shoulders and turned him, so he was facing away from the lecherous eyes.

Draco tittered laughter. Harry looked at him, eyebrows raised.

"Is he saying ‘Vulva’?"

Harry looked around to find the source of this mysterious word calling, which Draco only seemed to find funnier.

"The music!"

Harry turned his attention to the band. The jazz singer was practically licking the microphone, his large nosed face looking upon it as though it was a rare treat. He tilted his curly haired head and whispered.

Draco’s right! That is vulva!

There was a large chance that he was not singing vulva at all. But to their impressionable eighteen year old minds, vulva seemed the only possible word for him to be saying at that point.

And so it was, they stood in the middle of the crowded, gay muggle jazz night club holding each other from their weakness of laughing so hard at a man singing vulva.

Movement out of the corner of Harry’s eye turned his pupils to its source. His laughter instantly faded.

Great, it’s slobby bar git.

The man was subtly moving through the crowd, to dance near Draco. Noticing this, Draco turned his back to the man, so he was facing Harry.

This is not good. This is really not good.

Slight panic showed in Draco’s clear grey eyes.

"Come talk to me", an admittedly cute, twentyish boy stepped up to Draco and smiled at him. The blonde shook his head, wordlessly.

"Ok", The boy walked away, dejected.

"Not interested?" Lecherous man asked, so closed to Draco’s ear that he jumped, slightly. He glared at him once more, before storming off the dance floor. Harry more than gladly followed him.
 
 

"You could have said something to get those muggles away from me!" Draco raged after they’d apparated back to his room.

"I’m sorry." Harry sighed, then slid back down onto the bed, looking up through the velvet coverings to the intricate patterns of the roof that moved and changed. "I just wanted to show you a good time."

"A good time! ‘Not interested?’" He perfectly imitated slobby bar git. "That is not my idea of a good time!"

Harry sat up to watch him pace back and forth, before collapsing in the chair opposite his bed. "You did have a kind of good time. Admit it."

Harry turned his lips up to his usual lopsided grin. He could see from Draco’s face that his defenses were being broken. It was too easy, every time. Harry knew that Draco was also aware of this. He watched the boy’s aristocratic face struggle with being angry with Harry before he finally succumbed. Taking his cue, Harry slid off the bed to walk over to him, standing over him.

"You looked so sexy dancing. I just wanted to eat you up." Harry stroked up his jeans cuff, following the line from his ankle to stop at the top of his thigh, resting his hand there.

"You are the worst dancer, Potter." Draco started to undo the boy’s white shirt. "No, I mean it. You are truly awful. Absolutely the absolute most unable to follow the beat or even look coherently-"

"Alright!"

Draco smiled at Harry’s slightly peeved face. He leant forward to grasp Harry’s left nipple in his teeth. Harry couldn’t help the moan that escaped his lips. Draco released it and moved his tongue over it, causing Harry to shudder.

"Honestly. You were terrible. It was… incredibly erotic."

He started to lavish attention on the pink bud once more. Harry groaned, entangling his fingers through the boy’s silver hair, as his other hand rubbed up and down his leg through the jeans fabric.

Draco’s head moved up to capture Harry’s mouth with his own, hand tentatively slipping under the waistband of Harry’s slacks, the other running through his hair with the tenderness that Harry was strumming his own hair. Harry moved forward and planted his knees on either side of Draco’s hips so he was straddling the boy on the chair, both their tongues still clashing. Harry gasped into the boy’s mouth and jolted forward as he felt fingers softly stroking over his length. As his own hand undid the button on Draco’s jeans, he felt his lover’s hand enclose around his erection, causing him to moan once more, releasing Draco’s mouth to kiss along his jaw and up his cheek. (Knowing, from experience, that to bestow any attention to his neck would freeze him into non-compliance.) Harry reached managed to undo Draco’s jeans, despite his trembling fingers and reached in to grasp the boy’s own erection, hearing him gasp under him.

"Are you alright?" Harry panted into his ear.

Draco responded by pulling him to his mouth, tongues clashing, hands stroking, Draco feverously, Harry tentatively, their other hands entangled in each other’s hair. Draco started to buck and tremble under him, moaning into Harry’s mouth.

"Draco? Draco honey?" Harry looked him in his eyes. "I can use my mouth if you like."

The blonde instantly froze beneath him, eyes staring dully forward. Harry felt the usual anger and frustration rush through him. He leant forward to slip his tongue into the other’s mouth, continuing his attentions on his body, pushing his own body forward so his penis was slipping in and out of his frozen hand. Draco sighed, as though deciding something in his own mind and slipped his tongue into Harry’s mouth, his hand working through his hair once more. Harry gasped and thrust steadily into his hand as he felt himself reaching climax. He could feel Draco start to buck and writhe beneath him, his own breathe shortening. Harry suddenly felt a sharp tug of his hair and his face was pulled back so he was eye level with Draco. The flush of his pale skin and amazed lust and passion in his grey eyes was too much for Harry. He moaned his lover’s name, feeling the intense waves of pleasure ripple through him, as he bucked his release into his lover’s hand. Draco suddenly thrust up, pulling Harry sharply to him, making tiny little amazed mewling noises from his throat as Harry felt his own release covering his hand. Draco swiftly removed his hand from Harry’s pants and gently pushed him off, reaching down to quickly do up his jeans button. He reached for his wand and did the Speronzo spell to erase the evidence of their passion on him and Harry.

"Are you alright?" Harry stood by the bed, facing him.

Draco nodded and stood up, brushing down his shirt.

"I wasn’t…"

"You were beautiful." The blonde closed the distance between them and reached up to stroke Harry’s cheek. "You are beautiful."

Harry laughed. "No, you’re the beautiful one. Everyone always says so."

"Well so are you."

He tangled his hair once more in Harry’s hair. "Why is this stuff so obviously made for grabbing?"

"What did I say? What was it? It was when I said I’d use my mouth, wasn’t it?"

Draco released his hair, a flush appearing over his pale cheeks. He turned his face away from Harry’s. Harry reached under his pointed chin to turn his head to face him once more.

"Please, Draco."

The boy cursed, wrenched himself from Harry’s grasp. "You don’t want to know."

Harry managed to push his frustration down enough to elicit only an angry sigh to come unbidden from his lips.

"Shouldn’t I have the right to decide that? And yes, I do want to know."

"Fine then. He did it. Ok?" Draco veritably spat the words straight out at Harry, as though they were projectiles to hurt him. "One of the things he did was he jerked me off and then shoved me into his mouth. I hated it. I told myself I was hating it. And you know what? I must have liked it because I came, right into his mouth."

Harry suddenly wished Hermione was there. She would have known what to say. She would have at least been tactful.

"The body will automatically respond to a certain touch, even if it is unwanted. People have been known to even climax while being raped," She would perhaps say, Harry mused. "It doesn’t mean they wanted it. It just means they experienced an undesired physiological reaction."

But Harry wasn’t his best friend. If he tried to explain it that way to Draco, it would come out sounding wrong. He was aware of his inherent inability to express what exactly he was feeling. Particularly as sexual frustration was added to the mix.

Instead, the word that came unbidden from his mouth were possibly the worst he could say at that moment.

"When we first got together." Harry’s voice was shaking. "You told me you would never want to make love to me. I told you I would wait. And I still hold to that. Because I love you so much it would literally kill me to lose you." He watched his lover’s face soften at these words. "So what do you want me to do? Tell me? I feel like I can’t do anything. If I take you anywhere, you’ll just stiffen up and go into your own little private world at the slightest thing. If we stay here, Lucius is constantly on at me all the time, accusing me of being a whore for you and, you know what? Succeeding." He was on a roll and couldn’t stop. He continued to talk, purging months of frustration as Draco watched, an oddly pained expression on his face. "If you don’t want to touch me. Fine. I can deal with that. But I feel like you’re giving me mixed signals! You’re all hot one minute and then you freeze up once more. I may not be Hermione, but I know that it is because you’re remembering something he did. I want to touch you. Is that so much? I want us to make out just once without you freezing up in the middle. But it seems everything I do, it’s been done before. By him." He was crying now, openly. "Why did you wait until before you were attacked to tell me how you felt?"

Draco still held the odd expression. He stepped up to Harry and before Harry could respond, drew his hand back and slapped him hard across his face. Harry gasped, held a hand up to his reddened cheek.

"Get out of my room, Potter." His voice was so cold as to send a chill up Harry’s spine.

"What?" Harry was in shock. Draco started to walk around, picking up Harry’s things.

"Go back to your pathetic muggle Aunt and Uncle, where you belong." He threw Harry’s clothes at him.

Harry felt strangely numb. "I’m sorry." He managed.

What have I just said? What have I done?

Draco walked over to the bookcase and picked out the book Harry had bought him.

"Are you deaf or just stupid?" His voice held a slight tremor. "I don’t want you here." He shoved his book so hard into Harry’s chest, the raven-haired boy stumbled back a little.

"I don’t know what to say." Harry admitted.

Draco looked him straight in the eye. Harry flinched away from the emotions he read in them, anger, sadness, pain and betrayal.

"You’ve said enough."

Draco reached around and picked up Harry’s clothes from where they had fallen around his feet, placing them on top of his book.

"Wait! Please, Draco. I love you." He flailed.

Draco walked over to his chest of drawers and picked up the button off it, before walking back to Harry, holding it towards him.

"Why would you say such things, then? Get away from me, Potter. I don’t want to see you again."

Harry looked into his eyes, reading no hesitancy. This was it. He had hurt him more than he possibly could. He closed his eyes, taking the button off him.

"Dursleys."

A few seconds later, he was lying on his uncomfortable tiny bed at the Dursley house, the things he had brought to, or bought while at Draco’s house, scattered around him. He looked around in shock.

Why did I say those things? The words spun around and around in his mind as he struggled to understand his own culpability. The fact that he had felt his lover climax beneath him just minutes before was a skewer to his chest.

He picked up the book he had given Draco and felt the floodgate of emotion burst. Knowing that to cry too loud would disturb the Dursley’s sleep, he placed his head in his pillow as the ragged sobs burst forth. The pain was so intense as to make him feel as if his heart, itself was bleeding into the sheets below him. He didn’t think it would be possible to stem his tears, or the ache searing through his veins. A soft chirp behind him startled him into looking up to Hedwig. He reached over and stroked the owl’s feathers, face still wet with tears. Hedwig rubbed her face against Harry’s own.

"I love you too." Harry managed to smile. He pulled out his parchment with paper and began to write.
 
 

"So, let me get this straight." Hermione placed her spoon onto the wooden table with a dull thud. Harry stared into his twenty layered chocolate fudge with chocolate sprinkles and chocolate topping, plagued by the memory of the last time he had been in this store with Draco and Ron.

"You told him that every sexual act you could possibly do, he had already done with Marcus."

Harry felt a twist in his gut. "Well, not exactly like that."

He realized Ron was staring at him and suddenly couldn’t meet his eyes.

"Harry, that’s terrible!" Ron exclaimed.

"And you told him he should have told you how he felt before he was attacked."

Harry didn’t think he could have felt more worthless than what he was feeling then. "Well, if you put it like that-"

"So what you’ve done is blamed him for what happened."

"No! I-"

"I know you don’t, Harry." Hermione said softly. "But that’s how it would sound to him. The fact that he was willing to try doing anything sexual with you, Harry would be a big thing, for him. And you just turned around and threw it in his face."

"I didn’t mean for it to come out like that!" Harry said, his frustration apparent in his voice. "I don’t care if he doesn’t even want to touch me. I just want to be with him." He closed his eyes. "I’m such a fool."

The three friends were silent a while.

"Reeter Skeeter has stopped writing." Ron offered.

Hermione smiled triumphantly. Harry looked up at her. "Oh no. You haven’t again."

She rummaged around in her bag a moment, then brought up a large jar. Harry and Ron looked inside to the Reeter Skeeter bug battering at the glass.

"Did you ever read the article?" Hermione asked. Harry shook his head.

"I couldn’t."

She reached into her pocket. "Well, there would be no more of this rubbish, I can assure you of that!"

She held in her hands a frayed newspaper. Harry stared at her in wonder. "How did you get her again?"

"Pesky bugs are easy to find, if you know where to look." She said, somewhat mysteriously.

"You don’t want to read it, do you?" Hermione asked. Harry shook his head.

"Good."

He and Ron watched as she tore the front page off and shredded it to pieces.
 
 
 
 

The glare from the hundreds of overhead cameras and lights bearing down on the accused seemed to not fit with the dark deeds he had committed. Dumbledore, Mcgonagall, Snape, Lupin, a hooded Sirius and Harry were seated on the uppermost tier of the packed court room, above, among others, a frantically sweating Professor Moody, Ron, Hermione, all of the Weasley family and a lot of the Hogwarts students. Harry caught Dumbledore, himself wipe a bead of sweat from his forehead, before turning to him and smiling sympathetically.

Draco sat beside Percy at the prosecution table side on to the tiers. He looked exhausted. Dark circles underlined his eyes, contrasting to his flesh, which looked the palest Harry had ever seen it. He was leaning against the podium before him almost as though it was supporting him to stand. Lucius was beside him, head held high in its usual superior poise.

Percy Weasley stood up for the first time in the proceedings, looking smart in his black cloak and cap, the purple cravat tied at his throat completing the look.

"Good Evening, everyone. My case is very simple. In this trial, I shall establish without a doubt that one morning, this boy, Marcus Flinch did viciously torture and rape one Draco Malfoy."

Draco turned his wonderful silver eyes to the man standing ramrod straight in the chair at the centre of the stage the amphitheater looked down onto.

Harry looked sharply at Dumbledore. He was watching proceedings with the most peculiar expression on his face. It took Harry a moment to realize it was pure loathing. He had never seen Dumbledore look at anyone the way his eyes were boring into Marcus in that moment. Next to him, Severus Snape bore the same expression, though this was not uncommon. Remus Lupin suddenly squeezed Harry’s hand. He turned to him. He was facing forward, eyes more sad than angry. Sirius, whose face could barely be seen under his hood, was an exact copy of Snape.

"My case consists of witnesses and hard proof. So, without further ado, let us begin. Calling Reubus Hagrid."

The Weasleys would be so proud of him. Harry thought. Perhaps even Ron.

Harry, who had never really thought much of Percy, felt the emotion pass through him as he watched him escort the giant to a large chair a few metres from where Marcus was shackled. Hagrid’s hair had been smoothed back with gel, making it stick at right angles to his head. His beard had been neatly trimmed and his bright red bow, over his brown suit, was uneven. He eased himself into the chair. Even from where Harry was seated, he could see the sweat dripping off him.

"Mr. Hagrid." Hagrid jumped slightly, though Percy spoke softly. "Please tell me what happened the day of Mr. Malfoy’s attack."

Hagrid took a deep breath, took out a hanky and wiped his forehead, managing to mess his hair up, then replaced it into his pocket.

"Well, I go’ up early to tend to me pumpkins. I wan’ed to ge’ in early for Halloween this year. Las’ year, Mr. An’ony, ‘es a guy I me’ a’ the pub, well ‘e grew pumpkins twice the size of mine. Well, I decided if ‘e could do i’, then I could." Percy nodded. Harry could see Snape fidgeting beside him. "Anyway, so I go’ wen’ ou’side an’ was wa’ering them…" He stopped a moment. "I saw something kinda crawling toward my cabin from the Forbidden Fores’." His voice cracked. He cleared his throat and continued. Harry looked down to Draco. He had his head down. Lucius had one hand paternally placed on his shoulder. "I walked up to ‘im an’ I recognized ‘im as one of the studen’s, Draco Malfoy. I taugh’ ‘im a few times. Well, ‘e wasn’ looking too good. I mean, i’ was a freezing morning an’ ‘e wasn’ wearing a stitch." He started to cry, placing his head in his hands. Percy placed a hand on his shoulder. " An’ ‘e ‘ad all these marks all over ‘im." Hagrid choked between sobs. "Like bi’e marks an’ bruises an’ cu’s. I jus’ lifted ‘im into my arms, bough’ ‘im back to my cabin. I remember asking ‘im wha’ ‘ad happened. I’ was terrible to see. ‘e was all bloodied, you see, ‘ad blood all over ‘im. I bough’ ‘im in the cabin an’ he bled all over the place. ‘e didn’ stop crying, jus’ wouldn’ stop." Hagrid dissolved into tears once more. Everyone waited patiently.

"I bough’ ‘im in fron’ of the fire and wrapped ‘im in a blanke’. ‘e jus’ kep’ crying, so I hugged ‘im till ‘e stopped, then I asked ‘im again wha’ ‘appened. ‘e star’ed shou’ing a’ me, then. Said i’ was none of my business, tha’ I was jus’ a stupid giant, tha’ I was pathe’ic an’ all this. I jus’ wen’ with i’. Then, ‘e apologized. For yelling a’ me an’ stuff. I asked ‘im wha’ ‘appened. ‘e still wouldn’ answer. So, I said to ‘im tha’ i’s obvious ‘e’s been bea’en and raped. ‘e breaks down, then. I remember ‘is exact words. ‘e said; ‘ Sirius Black, ‘e… ‘e grabbed me. I tried to figh’ ‘im bu’ ‘e was bigger. I tried to use magic. ‘e snapped me wand.' ‘e said," Broken sobs interrupted his speech once more. " ‘e said ‘e was ‘eld face down in the mud while the man forced ‘imself on ‘im, tha’ ‘e couldn’ breathe." Harry felt his own eyes prick with tears. He looked down at Draco. He had his face in his hands. Lucius had bent low and was whispering something into his ear. "Then ‘e said after ‘e was finished ,’e begged ‘im to le’ him go. An’ tha’ Black took ou’ a knife an’ pu’ i’ agains’ ‘is throa’ an’ said ‘ed sli’ i’ if ‘e didn’ co-opera’e. Tha’ was i’. Tha’ was all ‘e said. I took ‘im straigh’ to Madam Pomfrey to ge’ cleaned up. ‘e said nothing more to me."

There was silence a few moments as the room took in what Hagrid had said. Percy finally broke it.

"Thank you, Hagrid." He placed a hand on his shoulder. The giant took out another handkerchief and blew his nose before standing up and walking away, shoulders hunched. Remus squeezed Harry’s hand affectionately.

"Calling next Madam Poppy Pomfrey."

The kindly school nurse looked unrecognizable in the scarlet robes. Her hair hung loose to her shoulders and she had on a little makeup to accentuate her eyes.

"Madam Pomfrey." A series of photos appeared in Percy’s hand. "Can you tell me what these are?" He handed them to the nurse.

"Photos of Mr. Malfoy’s injuries."

Percy took them off her and pointed his wand at them, muttering a spell. Instantly, the photos appeared on the lap of every person seated in the tiers.

"What is he doing?" Harry whispered to Remus.

"It is up to all of us to decide on Marcus’ fate." Remus explained. "Therefore, all of us get an equal look at the evidence."

Harry watched the others reactions to the photos. Anger flared inside him as he saw some of the Hogwarts students laughing to themselves over the pictures. On the centre stage, he noticed Draco whisper something to Percy. Percy turned to the three students and pointed his wand at them.

"You are considered not fit to deliberate over this. Therefore leave and forget what you have seen and heard here." Harry glanced at Dumbledore as the three snickerers disappeared. Dumbledore nodded at him. Harry noted that he hadn’t looked at the pictures, nor had Snape. Sirius was looking through the photos with a blazing anger in his eyes. His hand was shaking from his obvious fury. Lupin’s face bore a frown as he looked through them. Harry glanced down. The first shot was of Draco’s hideously bruised and bloodied neck. Harry dropped them to the floor, covering his face with his eyes.

"Can you explain to me what this is?" Percy now held in his hand a mould of a pair of teeth.

"A mould of Marcus’ teeth. They match identically with any of the bite-marks on Mr. Malfoy’s body." Pomfrey’s voice was trembling.

The teeth appeared in Harry’s hand. He watched as the first photo moved up to face him, before the teeth in the mould bit down hard into the neck in the photo, the head jerking upwards. Harry closed his eyes. When he opened them, both lay by his feet.

I can’t deal with this.

Harry glanced at Marcus. He had his eyes closed and his head down to his chest. Percy walked over to Draco, who held the same pose. He whispered into the blonde’s ear. Draco nodded before Percy moved back to Madam Pomfrey. He took out a test-tube. Harry couldn’t repress his moan as he tugged at his hair. Sirius turned to him and pulled him into a hug, wrapping his strong arms around him.

"And this?" He said, softly.

"Semen, collected from Mr. Malfoy straight after the attack. It is a hundred percent match with Marcus Flint."

On the floor, Lucius was likewise holding his trembling son to him.

"Can you describe what injuries Draco Malfoy bore from his attack?"

Madam Pomfrey closed her eyes, took a deep breath as Hagrid had done. "Most of it’s in the photos. Countless bite marks and bruises found all over the body, the arms, the legs, the back, the chest, concentrated mainly around the neck, scratches, likewise, on the arms, legs, back, chest, neck and face, a few knife cuts on the shoulders and back, swelling and bruising about the face."

"And what isn’t shown in the photos?" Percy whispered.

Pomfrey hesitated a moment. "Extensive tearing along the rectal wall, torn peritenum. The anus was torn wide open." Harry shuddered and started to cry against Sirius’ chest. "The… bowel had torn from the small intestine. I… I found a… pocket watch lodged high up into the rectal wall."

Harry pulled himself away from Sirius enough to look down at Draco below. He was all but enveloped by Lucius, who was holding him tightly to him, whispering what could only be words of comfort into his ear. This time the silence was held for a lot longer. Harry could hear a few sniffles in the crowd.

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey." Percy said so quietly, Harry hardly heard it. He didn’t see her walk away, was too busy sobbing against Sirius’ chest.

"Thank you." Percy was addressing the crowd, but his voice sounded foreign, lacking its usual superiority. "That will be all for today."

Harry again turned from Sirius’ chest to look down below. He was amazed at what he saw. Lucius was shaking hands with Percy! A Malfoy shaking hands with a Weasley in public! He watched as Percy whispered something to Draco, who nodded before he was supported off the stage by his father.
 
 
 
 
 
 

"It’s disgusting, isn’t it?" Ron said for about the tenth time since they had departed the courtroom. He, Harry and Hermione were walking through Honeydukes, looking at the vast array of chocolates available and, for once, not thrilled by them. Harry, if anything, felt sickened. Now he knew the full extent of what had happened to Draco… all he had wanted to do during the trial was to jump off his tier and grab the blonde up into his arms, like one of the amazing super heroes in the muggle comics the twins were so fond of. His mind flashed to a time Draco explained to him how he had felt during the attack.

"The whole time, I was begging for someone to come and save me like in some stupid muggle film. No such saviour for me."

"Can I meet you two outside?" Harry asked his friends. Ron and Hermione turned to face him, Ron with a frown, Hermione with a sympathetic look.

"Sure, Harry."

Harry stepped out of the Lolly store and onto the streets of Hogsmeade. He walked forward a little, only to find the vertigo made it difficult without feeling as if he would throw up. He found an empty bench in front of a robes store and sat down, placing his head in his hands.

"Harry?"

He looked up into Remus Lupin’s handsome face. "May I sit down?"

Harry nodded. As he relaxed next to him, Harry noted that the grey so prevalent in the ex-teacher’s hair was thinning out, the man’s caramel strands now taking precedent. Harry had once heard that stressed grey hairs could naturally decolour back to the original colour in a wizard. He wondered if Sirius Black had something to do with it, in Remus’ case.

"Harry. How are you?" He smiled at the boy. For a horrifying moment, Harry felt a strange tingle in his stomach. He had never thought about Remus in such a fashion before. Harry tore his eyes away from the man, feeling as if he was betraying Draco.

"I didn’t want to hear those things."

"None of us did. Not really. But it had to be known."

"Remus." Harry wasn’t sure how to proceed. The man affixed his light brown eyes on Harry. "If something ever happened to Sirius, in the past, I mean. I would feel I had to know. You know, if it was something bad."

Remus’ eyes on Harry were filled with such intensity, he was forced to look away.

"Harry, Sirius had a difficult upbringing. You know this. His father-"

"I’m not talking about that. What I mean is… you see, I got this letter from Sirius, where he talked about Draco’s attack and the way he was writing. I don’t know. It just worried me."

"Are you asking if Sirius has ever been raped?"

Harry was shocked by the bluntness of his question. "Yes, I guess I am."

"The answer is no, Harry. He just knows a lot about that." Remus watched a hag move swiftly through the street for a few seconds. "There’s something I have to tell you, Harry. Percy is no longer the lawyer to Draco. I will take over the role."

"What? Why? What did he do wrong?"

Remus smiled. "He did nothing wrong. It’s simply that Dumbledore has unearthed some information that marks him as more viable as a witness than prosecutor."

"I don’t-"

He was interrupted by Ron and Hermione, who appeared pleasantly surprised to find Remus Lupin with Harry. Lupin placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder then told them he had something to tell them. Harry excused himself once more, wanting solitude. He wound his way through the streets to find himself on the slope leading to the Shrieking Shack. When he reached the top, panting from the exerting climb, he saw a familiar figure standing in the overgrown garden, looking at the boarded windows and crumbling stone intently. Harry stilled a moment, treasuring the moment. His momentary butterflies at Remus’ smile was nothing compared to the vicious pounding of wings in his stomach now.

"Draco."

The boy turned to look at Harry, a barrage of emotions flicking across it, arriving at anger.

"What are you doing here, Potter? Have you been stalking me?"

"Draco, please listen to me."

The silver-blonde moved to walk away. Harry snatched his arm. Draco angrily shook him off.

"Don’t touch me, Potter!"

Feeling as though he had been punched in the stomach, Harry closed his eyes. When he opened them, Draco was still standing in the brown garden, watching him.

TBC…