Interrogation

The door to his cell opened and several reasons ran through Harry's head. A rescue mission. A new prisoner. Taunting. Torturing. Food.

A big, burly Death Eater in voluminous black robes threw a young man into the cell and shut the door. He was dirty, covered in dried blood and half naked, holding rags that had probably been his shirt once. However, his state of undress was not the thing that had Harry staring. Rather, Harry stared because he knew who this was.

"Malfoy?"

Draco looked up and then looked away.

"Potter."

"What are you doing in here?"

Draco laughed bitterly. "Well, they don't want me to get away, do they?"

Harry frowned. That didn't answer anything.

"Malfoy, this is your house. Why would they put you in the dungeons?"

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Why would you think this is my house, Potter?"

"Your father told me," he said, rolling his eyes. "Besides, he's the one who comes down here most often."

"Oh."

Draco moved from where he'd been thrown to lean against the far wall of the cell. Harry waited for an explanation, and after a few minutes of silence he realized that none was forthcoming.

"Potter. Just leave me alone," Draco said shortly, in response to Harry's repeated question.

"But I don't understand why you're down here."

"Look," he said, "my father decided it wasn't necessary to teach me Occlumency before dragging me in front of the Dark Lord, and this is what happened."

Harry could sense the frustration in Draco's voice and felt slightly guilty for provoking him. Still, he continued because he knew that Draco would let something slip if Harry just kept at him.

"What could you have to hide from Voldemort?"

Draco flinched a little and answered bitterly, "Apparently, it's a rule that Death Eaters aren't allowed to like boys."

Harry was shocked silent for a few minutes. They locked him in here because he likes boys?

Draco didn't really pay any attention to Harry and kept talking. It seemed like he was just talking for the sake of it, like he just wanted to get something off his chest.

"They seem to think liking boys is wrong and disgusting, but raping and killing Muggle women is fine," he continued, still with a very bitter tone. "Even though, I've never actually done anything with a boy and I'd never rape one, I'm still an immoral, foul, disgusting, piece of filth, who's not worth the Malfoy name."

He paused for breath and Harry cut in.

"Your father said that?"

Draco looked Harry in the eye for the first time, and let out something between a sob and a groan.

"Yes."

Harry didn't know what to say, so instead he crawled across the cell, using what little strength he had after going two days without sustenance. Now that he was closer to Draco, he could see the dried blood clearly. Most of what he thought was dirt on his bare back was actually blood clots as well.

"You're bleeding," he said bluntly.

Draco craned his neck to look at his back. Then, he looked forward again and shrugged.

"I'm not actually. That's just dried up."

Harry took a piece of the ragged shirt from Draco's hands and started to brush away the blood. It flaked off as he ran the cloth over the skin. Underneath, Harry saw Draco was right. He wasn't bleeding, but his back was covered in red welts and white scars that looked years old, but couldn't have been more than several hours old.

"What happened to you?"

"They healed them with a powerful healing spell. One that guarantees scaring." Draco paused and sighed. "Madam Pomfrey doesn't use it precisely for that reason."

Harry nodded, though Draco couldn't possibly have seen.

"Who did this?" he asked, as he traced a scar on Draco's shoulder blade.

Draco shivered at his touch and hunched his shoulders. He whispered something so softly that Harry couldn't make out the words.

"What was that?"

"They all did," he said louder.

Harry was shocked. "What?"

Draco let out another stifled sob. "They all took turns whipping the gay boy. I suppose it was fun for them, but I think it was also a warning."

"A warning to who?" Harry asked softly.

"Any of them who might hide thoughts like mine. I don't know."

Harry couldn't think of anything to say. He ran his fingers over scar after scar. Despite them, he couldn't help but notice that Draco was amazingly built. His back was gorgeous, even with the scars. After a while, Harry stopped tracing the scars and started tracing the muscles underneath. He'd long since admitted that Draco Malfoy was undeniably one of the most attractive men he'd ever met. Harry was slightly ashamed that he was getting hard when they were in such a serious and slightly dangerous situation.

Worried that he wouldn't be able to control himself, he withdrew his hand and took a few bum-shuffles back. Even from farther away the sight of Draco's bare back was making him harder. Harry stripped off his own shirt and threw it to Draco. The other boy pulled the shirt off his face and scowled at Harry.

"What's this for?" he said angrily.

Harry shrugged. "I just figured you wouldn't want me to see them," he lied.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Well, it's a bit late for that."

He put the shirt on anyway.

Harry turned away from Draco so that he wouldn't stare, but he couldn't ignore the desire to sneak glances over his shoulder. He succumbed to the desire when he felt eyes on him.

"What?"

Draco was staring at him as if he'd never seen Harry before.

"You - You've got - Your back - "

Harry almost grinned.

"Are you always this articulate?" he said in a slightly teasing tone.

Draco swallowed. Harry watched the throat muscles contract and relax.

"You've got scars on your back too," Draco said.

Harry nodded. "You're not the first one they've tortured. After all, I've been here for two days already."

"They took turns with you too?" he asked.

Harry shook his head. "No, this was all Daddy-dearest's work. And Wormtail."

Draco turned his head away and pulled his knees up to his chest. He wrapped his arms around them and then buried his face in them. Harry heard him mumble something that sounded like 'I'm sorry'. He didn't press to have it repeated.

There was silence. It could have lasted a minute, it could have lasted an hour. Harry had long since lost the ability to keep count of time. He only knew the passing of the days because of Lucius' morning taunting sessions. He'd sat in silence for the better part of two days, but now with Draco in the cell, the silence seemed suffocating. He couldn't stand it.

"I never knew you were - "

"A faggot? A ponce? A shirt-lifter? A pillow-biter?" Draco offered scathingly, barely even lifting.

"Like me," Harry finished calmly, as if Draco had never spoken.

"Oh," Draco said, sounding slightly surprised.

They fell into silence again.

****

Days and many conversations later, the door opened again. Another Death Eater came in, but he looked slightly smaller than the one who brought Draco. He put a tray down on the floor and his hood moved, as if he were looking at each of them.

"This is all you're getting to eat," he said shortly, "so don't waste it. Mr. Malfoy said that you wouldn't get any more and that you'll have to share. There's a bowl of water and a cloth to make sure that neither of you get infected. They want you healthy for next week."

Then, the Death Eater turned quickly and left. Harry briefly wondered if the man had learnt to swish his robes like that from Professor Snape, or if it was something all Death Eaters were taught.

Harry crawled over to the tray and took a heavenly bite of bread. The bread was a bit stale, but it was still all he'd eaten in two days. After he'd eaten the whole piece of bread, he picked up the washcloth and turned to Draco.

"Come here," he said gently.

Draco crawled closer and frowned. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm just going to wash your back," he said. "You can't reach it yourself."

Draco nodded and moved in front of Harry. He sat down and pulled off the shirt he was wearing. Harry dipped the washcloth in the water and started to carefully wash away the dried blood and dirt.

Soon, Draco's back was half clean and Harry was desperately thinking of Snape in his skivvies to keep from appearing too excited. When he reached the small of Draco's back, his hand started to shake a little from the effort it took to not run his hands over Draco's pale skin.

"What's next week?" Draco asked.

Harry was so distracted by the bare skin that he missed the words. "What?"

"He said we're to be healthy for next week. Do you know what that's about?"

Harry nodded, forgetting that Draco couldn't see.

"Potter?"

"Oh, er, Voldemort's got some Dark ritual planned for the full moon next week. He said he's going to use me as a sacrifice. I guess they're going to use both of us."

Draco gulped, but didn't say anything else. His breathing sped up slightly and Harry's gaze was drawn to the clenching muscles of his shoulders. Try as he might, Harry could not drag his gaze away. His eyes drifted of their own will to one of the scars on Draco's shoulder.

"I just don't understand something," he said softly.

"What?" Draco asked.

"I don't really understand why they did this to you. Or at least, I don't understand why you're still alive. Voldemort doesn't leave prisoners alive very often."

Draco tense slightly. It would have been unnoticeable if Harry hadn't been staring at his back.

"I can explain that. He didn't kill me because he wants information. Information about the boy I like."

Harry had to strain to hear Draco's words. They were spoken softly, almost as if Draco didn't want to tell them but knew Harry had a right to know.

"A boy at Hogwarts?"

Draco nodded. "He goes to Hogwarts."

"Why? Why is Voldemort after him?"

Draco shook his head sadly. Harry felt a little bit bad about asking so many questions but he knew that this information could be important and the Order should know. If he ever managed to get to the Order again.

"What did Voldemort want to know about him?"

Draco's voice answered almost inaudibly. "He wanted to know how to break him."

Harry frowned. "How to break him? Why would you know that? You were probably trying to stay on his good side, right? Since you like him and all."

"Not exactly."

"But still," Harry protested, "he'd want to know how to find him first. It's only logical. Why would he want to know how to break him unless..." Harry paused as the realization hit, "he already had him."

Draco craned his neck slightly to look over his shoulder. "You know, for a hero, you're pretty slow on the uptake."

Harry was still too shocked to react to the jibe. "You like me?"

Draco turned his head back around to look at the wall.

"Yes."

"Oh."

Harry couldn't think of anything else to say. Instead, he dragged his finger over a scar on Draco's back. Then, he did the same to another. His touch was so tender and loving that Draco looked back at him again.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

Harry didn't answer the question.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured instead.

"What?"

Harry looked up from Draco's back to meet his gaze.

"I think you're gorgeous," he said simply. "Even with the scars."

Draco turned around completely and faced Harry.

"Honestly?" he asked.

Harry nodded. "Honestly."

He reached out a hand and ran it gently over Draco's chest, loving the way the muscles tensed and shifted beneath his palm.

Draco sucked in a breath and Harry's other hand moved up to the back of Draco's neck.

"You know," he said, "since we're probably going to die next week, there's really no reason for me not to say this." He paused for a minute to catch his breath and continued, "I like you, Draco. I've fancied you since the middle of sixth year. I just didn't want to tell you."

Draco's eyes widened, in shock. "You have?"

Once again, Harry nodded. Then, he leaned in and met Draco's lips in a gentle kiss.

At first, Draco was unresponsive and Harry began to pull away. Then, Draco's lips pressed insistently against Harry's and hands came up to bury in Harry's hair. Tongues crept out and met, battling for dominance in both mouths, and for a moment, the dungeon disappeared. They were simply Harry and Draco Kissing, nothing more.

They broke away and Harry found himself panting for breath, despite the tenderness of the kiss. Draco was looking at him with clouded eyes and Harry couldn't help himself. He moved the hand that was on Draco's chest downwards, sweeping over his hard, pink nipples and smooth stomach. His fingers came to rest on the waistband of Draco's trousers. They paused there, asking permission to continue.

Draco looked up into Harry's eyes and nodded. "If we're going to die, might as well."

Harry's hand, which had started moving at Draco's nod, paused again. Draco's hands, which had drifted to Harry's shoulders, moved up to cup his face.

"I want this, Harry. I want you. I have for so long," he said earnestly.

Harry unbuttoned Draco's trousers and snaked a hand inside. Draco's sharp intake of breath told him how nice his touch felt. Draco felt different in his hand than Harry did, and the angle was odd, but Draco's moans told Harry he was doing a good job.

"Please, Harry," Draco groaned suddenly. "Please."

Harry nodded, even though Draco's eyes were closed, and divested them both of their remaining clothes. He prepared himself and Draco as best as he could as they lay on the cell's dirt floor. He didn't care about the squalor of the cell. He didn't care about the guard at the far end of the corridor. All he cared about was Draco, and how much he wanted him. As he thrusted into Draco, he covered their sounds with a searing kiss. With every stroke and every moan, Harry felt their desperation, their need and something he thought might be love.

All too soon, it was over and Harry collapsed on Draco's chest, listening to Draco's heart rate gradually slow. When he regained control of his muscles he moved away and reached for their clothes.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked.

Draco sat up and winced slightly. "A little, but it was more than worth it."

"I'm sorry," Harry said anyway.

Draco shrugged, moving back into his usual somewhat collected self.

"You did your best," he said lightly. "It's not as if this place is well provisioned or anything."

Harry looked around the cell, and the disparity of their situation hit him once more. He crawled over to where Draco was leaning against the back wall and sat down next to him, thigh to thigh.

"Seeing as we're most likely going to die," he said, "how about you tell me about yourself."

Draco arched an eyebrow. "Is that supposed to be a pick up line? No wonder you're single."

"Am I single?" Harry asked, tilting his head to one side in a quizzical manner.

Draco half smiled. "I guess not, but if I didn't like you so much, I'd feel sorry for myself."

Harry grinned. "Who knew that it would take imprisonment for us to get here?"

"What? In a cell?" Draco said. "Anyone could guess that."

Harry shook his head. "No, I mean, the way we act. I feel comfortable being myself with you now. I never thought I'd feel like that."

Draco nodded his agreement but didn't respond otherwise. Harry knew, after their many conversations, that a nod was probably all the response he was going to get. Draco didn't really talk about his feelings much.

****

Draco had been keeping track of the days on the wall since he'd arrived. By the number of little scratches the sacrifice was to be the next day. Harry looked at Draco, sleeping restlessly in a corner, and sighed. He'd experienced more with Draco in seven days locked in a cell than he'd ever experienced before. Not to say that Harry had been inexperienced when he'd been captured. He was a seventeen-year-old boy after all. Only before he hadn't been able to say that he knew anyone else's body intimately or that anyone else knew his.

He could say that about Draco, though. There wasn't much to do, locked up in a cell after all, and they were two teenaged, hormonal boys awaiting their deaths. They weren't going to waste the time they had, despite the less than stellar surroundings.

Harry sighed again. He didn't want to die, not so soon after he and Draco had reconciled their differences. He wanted live and do everything they'd done and more somewhere comfortable, though he would have settled for someplace that was just clean.

He wished for a way out. A secret tunnel, a house-elf, or his wand, which was most likely still in his bedside table drawer, where he'd put it before his nighttime abduction.

He looked at the far corner, kitty corner from the one Draco was sleeping in, and blinked. Something was fuzzily appearing. He rubbed his eyes and looked again. The shape grew stronger, more focused. It was about five foot ten, and a little over a foot wide. It was mostly a slate grey colour, with a light part at the top. It...

It was Remus Lupin.

Harry stared and could not say a word. Remus looked at him and smiled widely.

"Thank the gods. It worked. Come on, Harry. We've no time to lose. We have to get out of here."

"Remus?" was all Harry could manage.

"Yes, it's me. Come here and let's go."

"How? What?" Harry shook his head to clear his thought. "How are we leaving?"

"It's a specialized Portkey that the Order has been developing. It doesn't make any noise and can be set on the spot. We've got to be quick about though, so let's go."

Harry smile. "Wait a second, I've got to wake Draco."

Remus frowned. "Draco?"

Then his eyes fell on the boy sleeping in the corner, wrapped in his ragged clothes.

"Is it necessary, Harry?" Remus asked, sounding like he regretted asking.

Harry glared for a second and spat out, "Would have left Sirius?"

Remus paled, like he always did when someone mentioned Sirius. "Of course not. I loved him. You know that."

"Exactly," Harry said quickly. "And I won't leave Draco."

Realization crept into Remus' expression. "I see. It's like that."

"Yes, it's like that," Harry repeated, as he moved to Draco side and shook him awake gently.

"Wake up, Draco. Wake up."

Draco moaned groggily and rubbed his eyes.

"What was that for?" he grumbled.

Harry pointed to Remus and Draco almost yelped in surprise. He caught himself, and looked quickly towards the door, as if checking for guards.

Harry grabbed one of his arms and hauled him to his feet, supporting some of his weight, as he was still a little weak from his harsh torture and small rations.

As Remus began to fiddle with the Portkey, Draco turned to Harry.

"Where are we going?" he whispered.

"Probably to Order headquarters, or Hogwarts," Harry replied.

"They won't kill me on sight, will they?"

Harry stifled a laugh. "Of course not. I won't let them."

Draco snorted softly and Harry turned his face so they locked eyes.

"No one will hurt you," he said calmly. "I love you. And I won't let them."

Draco was stunned silent by the admission that neither of them had made before. Remus held out the Portkey and both boys reached out to touch it. Draco spoke a split second before they disappeared and his words seemed to hang in the air when they were gone.

"I love you, too."