Chapter Text
They Left Him to Live
Severus Snape looked over at Arthur Weasley, completely ignoring Harry Potter, who was standing just to the left of him. "They are the last of the Death Eaters," he said tiredly, motioning to the five men being escorted out of the remains of what used to be Malfoy Manor. "Everyone is now dead or accounted for."
"Not everyone," Harry stated matter-of-factly. "Where's Malfoy?"
Snape shot Harry an evil glare. "Lucius Malfoy is dead. Do you not remember?" he said sarcastically.
Harry rolled his eyes angrily. "I meant his son."
"I know who you meant, Potter," he snapped.
Harry clenched his fists. "Then where is he?"
Snape turned back to Arthur. "Draco Malfoy is in the dungeons. He is in the last cell."
"The dungeons?" Harry asked curiously. "Why would the son of a Death Eater be there?"
Snape slowly turned to him. "Because he failed the Dark Lord," he said flatly.
Harry gritted his teeth, annoyed with being constantly mocked, and brushed past Snape, heading for the manor.
"Potter," Snape began, but Harry didn't stop. "I would recommend taking someone with you."
That stopped Harry and he glanced over his shoulder. "Why? Is he that dangerous?" he mocked.
"No. It's because you will not be able to carry him by yourself."
With that, Snape walked away, followed by a baffled Arthur Weasley. Harry stood still, unable to move from Snape's words, but then shook his head, disregarding them as an exaggeration, and continued inside the manor. The smell of burnt rubble instantly filled Harry's nostrils, and as he entered the lower level of the manor, the smell of burnt flesh almost choked him. He passed by several open cells, and each one reeked of human body waste and spilt blood.
‘What kind of a father would allow his son to be kept here?' Harry wondered, wrinkling his nose. Harry snorted. ‘Lucius Malfoy, that's who,' he thought, answering himself.
Harry was surprised to find Malfoy's cell door unlocked. It was pitch black so Harry raised his wand and whispered, "Lumos."
A cowering figure was crouched in the furthest corner. He snapped his head up with fear, but then his face softened when he saw who it was.
"Potter," Malfoy wheezed, sounding almost relieved. He lowered his head again, and sighed. "It's finally over," he said softly.
"Yes, Malfoy," Harry said tightly. "The war is over."
Not looking up, Malfoy slowly shook his head. "I meant my life."
Harry furrowed his brows. "You think I'm here to kill you?" he said with a slight accusation in his voice.
Malfoy lifted his eyes. "You mean you're not?" There was a definite sadness in his voice.
"No, Malfoy, I'm not. You will stand trial for your betrayal."
Dull grey eyes returned to the dungeon floor, and he nodded weakly.
"My betrayal of you, you mean," he whispered.
Harry's face heated with rage. "One time, Malfoy! It was only one time! You were just a fuck to me! Do you understand, you bloody ponce? A fuck!"
Draco held back his tears. ‘Just a fuck,' his mind echoed. Only it wasn't just one time.
What followed was a deadly silence that filled the small cell. Harry stepped closer, but Malfoy didn't move. He looked at Malfoy's surroundings for the first time. The walls were slick with mildew, and the floor wet with a possibility of urine. No wonder it smelled foul here. As Harry took another step towards Malfoy, he glanced up and down at the small-framed boy.
His pale blond hair no longer shone from gel. In fact, if it wasn't for the fact that Harry already knew what colour Malfoy's hair was, he would have never guessed that it really was blond. There was black dirt smudged between pieces of hair that were left in clumps of dried blood, and on some parts of Malfoy's head, there was no hair at all.
Harry cleared his throat. "So. This is where they left you to die, is that it, Malfoy?"
Malfoy raised his head, barely shaking it. "No, Potter. This is where they left me to live."
Harry opened his mouth to ask what he was talking about, but a low voice coming from behind interrupted him.
"They're evacuating everyone from the building, Mr Potter. It's time to leave."
Harry nodded, still watching the defeated-looking boy.
"Let's go, Malfoy," Harry said firmly.
The once-blond youth sighed heavily, and leaned on the dungeon wall, obviously trying to gain some support to stand.
"Do you ... do you need help?" Harry offered unexpectedly.
"No, I bloody well don't," he spat, finally resembling the arrogant Draco Malfoy that he had once been.
Harry scowled and turned away. He couldn't watch him anymore anyway. He didn't want to feel any pity for him. He wanted to stay angry with him. The boy had tried to kill his mentor, Albus Dumbledore. Harry marched out of the cell, and had got only a few feet when he sensed Malfoy wasn't close behind. He spun around, and saw that Malfoy was just exiting the cell.
"Come on, Malfoy," he snapped impatiently. "Hurry up. Can't you move any faster than that?" he snarled.
Malfoy glared at him. "I would if I could, Potter, but I can't."
Harry raised a brow, noticing Malfoy's hunched back, curled arm tucked into his stomach, and his profound limp for the first time. The blond tried not to wince with every step he took. Harry scoffed, trying to remain indifferent.
"Oh, for the love of ... Mr Johnson, would you be so kind as to carry Mr Malfoy?"
The Auror scowled. "Yes, Mr Potter." He turned to Malfoy.
"I told you, I don't need help from you and I don't want it!"
‘How typical,' Harry thought. ‘The Malfoy pride finally returns.'
Harry advanced dangerously. "Listen up, Malfoy. Either you'll be carried out of here or he levitates you. Which is it to be?"
Malfoy looked away, frowning. Harry nodded to the Auror. The man started to bend down to lift him when Malfoy said, "Levitate."
"Fine," Harry said flatly, and briskly walked away, trying to ignore the pained expression on his nemesis' face as he was raised by magic.
~*~*~*~*~
Draco Malfoy was escorted into one of the cells at Azkaban.
‘From one to another,' he thought, mentally shaking his head. Except this one had a bed. And a basin. He looked at Harry, arching an eyebrow. "Is that where I'm to sleep?"
Harry narrowed his eyes. "Sorry it doesn't live up to your expectations, Malfoy. Perhaps you'd be happier back in the dungeons," he hissed.
Draco faced his new cell. "I meant the bed," he said quietly.
Harry heard the sadness in his voice, but he was too angry to care. Actually, he was angry with himself. He really didn't want to feel any pity for this boy. "A Healer will be here within the hour," he said through gritted teeth, and then he turned to leave.
"Why?" Draco asked, still looking at the small, but seemingly comfortable bed.
"Why ‘what'?" Harry snapped, spinning around.
Draco sighed. "Why am I to be healed?" he asked as if it was obvious. When silence was the only answer, he continued, clarifying. "Why am I to be healed if I'm to spend the rest of my life here? Why bother?" he asked with a slight sarcasm in his voice.
Harry stormed over to him. "Because we're not like you, Malfoy. Besides, I'm tired of listening to your pathetic whinging."
Draco lowered his gaze. "So am I."
Harry furrowed his brows, trying to understand what he meant by that. He shook it off however, and left, but not before slamming the cell door. Draco winced at the loud sound.
~*~*~*~*~
"Wake up, Mr Malfoy," a sharp voice said.
Draco jumped up to a sitting position from where he was sleeping on the floor. It was somewhere he was more accustomed to.
"My name is Alexander Graham, Mr Malfoy, and where -- " He stopped in mid-sentence and scowled. "Have you not washed yet?" he inquired crisply as if he was scolding a small child.
Draco narrowed his eyes. "For one thing, I was not given the use of any facilities, and for another, I can't," he answered bitterly.
"Very well, then. Close your eyes."
Draco closed his eyes skeptically. He gasped as a cold shiver ran over his body. He was now magically clean, but he didn't feel clean. He felt violated. He also felt humiliated that he had to admit to any weakness. But, unfortunately, the Healer would find out about them sooner or later anyway.
"Now then, where do you need to be healed?"
"Where don't I need healed?" Draco drawled.
"Stand and remove your clothes to show me, then," the Healer ordered.
As before, Draco braced himself against the wall, and grimaced as the pain shot up his side. He ignored the Healer's questioning look. Finally, standing as tall and normal as he was able to, Draco raised his hands to the front of his torn shirt. He closed his eyes as his fingers touched the buttons and hissed loudly.
"What seems to be the problem, Mr Malfoy?" Healer Graham asked impatiently.
"Nothing," Draco mumbled.
"I cannot help you, Mr Malfoy, if you refuse to tell me where you are injured," Graham said with a touch of annoyance.
"I'm injured everywhere, all right? If you can wait one bloody minute, I'll show you!"
Healer Graham sat back in his chair and folded his arms. Draco continued glaring at him for a moment, then looked back at his shaking hands as they slowly unbuttoned his shirt. Each unfastening of a button was pure agony for him. He was even tempted to ask for help. Instead, Draco clenched his jaw through the pain, and sighed quietly when the last was undone. He parted his shirt carefully, and closed his eyes when he heard the Healer gasp. Draco flinched violently when Graham yanked the material aside.
"Who did this to you?" he demanded.
Draco glared at him. "Who do you think?" he shot back.
"But you're ... Your father is ..." He stopped when he saw Draco sneering at him. He shook his head quickly, trying to gain back his professionalism. "Well. Now then..."
Draco inhaled sharply as one of the man's fingers grazed over his shredded nipple.
~*~*~*~*~
"I wonder how many girls has had the pleasure of nibbling on one of these. Lucius?"
"My son prefers boys, My Lord."
"Does he now? How interesting. Perhaps we can soon remedy that. Mr Zabini?"
"Yes, My Lord?"
"Show Draco what it feels like to have one properly nibbled on."
"With pleasure, My Lord."
~*~*~*~*~
Draco gasped at the memory and louder when he felt the nipple being reattached.
Healer Graham sighed. "There now." He lowered Draco's shirt over his shoulders and closed his eyes at the protruding bone.
~*~*~*~*~
"I do believe you're holding back, Lucius. I said I wanted him unconscious."
"No, My Lord. I'm not holding back."
"Then kick him harder."
"Yes, My Lord."
~*~*~*~*~
When Healer Graham finished with the two broken ribs, he removed the rest of the blood-soaked shirt and walked around to Draco's back. He held his breath and counted to ten. He was getting angrier by the minute.
There were so many whiplashes on Draco's back that the man couldn't tell where one began and one ended. Most were oozing pus from months of neglect. And where there weren't any fresh scars or thin lines of dried blood, he could see the shadows of older, larger scars. How they had been made, he honestly didn't want to know. There were a few marks that concerned him, however. One ran up Draco's spine and when he took a closer look, he noticed a few of the boy's discs weren't aligned.
"Merciful Merlin," he whispered.
~*~*~*~*~
"How many was that, son?"
"I-I don't know, Father."
"No? Then I shall have to start over again. Now count."
~*~*~*~*~
"Mr Malfoy. Are you able to lie down on the bed?" he asked quietly.
Draco nodded as he took the three steps. With Graham's help, he was able to lower his body with little pain. He grabbed the sheets tightly in his fists even though that in itself caused him pain. Draco felt a cool substance touch his skin followed by warmth. He howled when he felt his spine move.
"I apologise, Mr Malfoy. I know this hurts. It will soon be over."
Draco mentally shook his head. It will never be over.
Healer Graham moved Draco's hair aside to follow a deep scar that ran diagonally across his shoulder and looked to go up his neck. He held back the bile rising in his throat. The whiplash had not only cut into Draco's shoulder and neck, but also curved around his head and torn his ear in two. A faint line, he noticed, ended at the corner of Draco's right eye.
~*~*~*~*~
"Stop crying, boy! I told you not to move."
"I don't believe those are tears, Lucius."
~*~*~*~*~
"Mr Malfoy? Did you not hear me?" Graham asked, slightly panicking.
Draco's head was on its side and he was staring straight ahead. Healer Graham crouched down on the floor in front of him.
"Mr Malfoy?"
Draco raised his head. "Yes?"
Graham sighed. "You cannot hear out of that ear, can you?" Draco closed his eyes and shook his head. "Can you see out of your right eye?" Draco shook his head again.
Never before had Healer Graham wanted to kill someone.
"I mended your wounds, but the scars will unfortunately remain."
"I understand. Thank you, sir."
The man smiled. "Let's get you turned over, shall we?"
Draco nodded and hissed when his tender back touched the cool sheets. When Graham reached for the top of Draco's trousers, he panicked.
"No! Don't! Please."
The Healer looked at him sadly. "Please, Draco. I need to heal everything."
Draco bit his lower lip and turned his face to the wall, hiding his tears.
Healer Graham saw them just the same.
~*~*~*~*~
"Lucius. Really. There was no need to strike that, was there?"
"Actually, My Lord, I was aiming lower."
"Ah. Then perhaps your boot would be more effective."
"Excellent idea, My Lord."
~*~*~*~*~
Healer Graham coughed several times to empty the rest of the contents of his stomach. He laid his head on the edge of the basin to cool his forehead.
Draco's penis was split up the middle and it wouldn't have surprised Graham if Draco wailed every time he had to use the bathroom. He wondered if he would be able to fix Draco's penis - enough to be usable anyway. His testicles, from what he could tell, were ruptured. He knew eventually that they would have to be amputated.
In the distance, he could hear Draco cry.
Taking another deep breath, Healer Graham walked back to Draco and quietly removed the boy's trousers. As expected, one of Draco's legs was broken. That explained his limp. When the leg was finally healed and straightened, he carefully nudged Draco to turn back over. The boy complied, but screamed when the Healer tried to spread his legs.
"No! Stop! Enough! I don't need anything else healed! I don't!"
Graham sighed. He had known this was coming.
"All right, Draco. You rest now and I'll return after dinner." He leaned over and stroked the boy's face. "All right?" he whispered.
Draco stared at him through blurry eyes, and nodded.
"I'm sure someone will be in soon with your dinner," he said, smiling softly.
Draco lowered his head back down and Healer Graham covered his body with the blanket.
~*~*~*~*~
"Oh, shut up, Malfoy. You already have two in you, what's one more?"
"At least we got to be first, huh, Zabini?"
"Yeah."
"I heard all the Death Eaters are wanting a ‘piece' of you, Malfoy."
"Yeah. Lucky you."
~*~*~*~*~
Healer Graham rounded the corner and ran straight into Harry Potter. He backed up a few feet and glared at the younger wizard. Harry raised a curious eyebrow.
"I'm surprised at you, Mr Potter," he hissed.
Harry narrowed his eyes. "What exactly are you ..."
"Do you have any idea of what that boy has gone through?"
"Look, he ..."
"I know precisely what he did and what he didn't do. He may have intended to follow Voldemort's order, but he DIDN'T."
Harry blinked. He knew that already, but there still was his betrayal to ...
"I don't know the relationship the two of you had and frankly I couldn't care less, but I know one thing for certain, Mr Potter. Whatever punishment you personally were going to inflict on him was nothing compared to what he has received."
Healer Graham pushed Harry aside and marched away.
"I'm surprised that they left him to die. I'm sure they could've thought of more things to do to him," the Healer said before walking out of earshot.
Harry looked at the retreating figure and then in the direction of Draco's cell. He shook his head and a tear ran down his cheek. Harry understood now.
"They didn't leave him to die," he whispered. "They left him to live," he said, echoing Draco's words. "But why?"
~*~*~*~*~
"So, Malfoy. Is he really worth all this?"
"Yes."
"And do you honestly think he'll take you back now that you're a cripple and ... useless?"
"...."
"I didn't think so. Again, Zabini. He still hasn't told us where he is."
~*~*~*~*~