Disengage

Chapter 3

September 2^nd

"Catch, Potter!" Harry looked up quickly, just in time to see Draco toss him a foil. On instinct, he reached up and clasped his hand around it. Almost instantly he felt the world fade around him, and a familiar tug at his navel. Immediately fear washed over him. He didn't even have time to think. He only had time to feel, and he felt raw fear take over his soul.

Suddenly Harry felt his feet slam into the ground, and he fell to his knees. Where are we... the fear gripped his heart, it was happening all over again. Did anyone tell you the cup was a portkey...nope... the whole situation was completely surreal. I dunno, wands out d'you reckon... he stood up and fumbled, looking for his wand. Someone's coming...his scar began to twinge. Kill the spare...Avada...Kedavra...now was not the time to panic.

He felt himself roughly hauled to his feet by a pair of strong hands. "Good evening, Mr. Potter," a voice drawled. The hands harshly shook Harry, and Harry opened his eyes, not even aware they had been tightly shut. He was greeted with the sight of Lucius Malfoy's sour visage. Lucius cocked an eyebrow as if to challenge Harry. Harry just stared into his eyes. Lucius cast him to the ground, "Get his wand, tie him up," he commanded. Two others appeared from the shadow of the room, and brusquely began to search for Harry's wand.

Harry was vaguely aware of what was going on around him. He felt cold, and his scar hurt, but other than that, nothing for him was anchored in reality. It didn't make sense: the foil... a portkey? Was this going to be like last time? Last time Cedric died, was he the one who would die this time? The two men began to take off his half jacket. Harry's mind was put into overdrive. He was in danger. He needed to get out of danger. Harry became more aware of his surroundings as he broke from his stupor. This would not end like last time.

"What the hell is wrong with him," sneered one of the men.

"Why is he so complacent?" asked the other.

"He is broken," Lucius said, Harry could hear the glee in his voice.

They were mistaken though. He most certainly was not complacent. He most certainly was not broken, and would never be broken by the likes of these men.

He began to flail wildly: kicking his legs, punching with his arms. The two struggled to hold him down. Harry felt his foot connect with the flesh of one man's arm, his hand punched another man's face. He was not going to go down without a fight. Both of the men put their hands up to cover their faces.

"What are you fools doing? Hold him down, imbeciles!" Lucius directed. Harry just acted on animal instinct, he was in danger, and he needed to be out of danger. He stood up and tried to make a break for it out of the room, and into the unknown. He felt one of the men grab his ankle. He felt himself begin to lose his balance.

"For pity's sake, Lucius, what is going on?"

"Master," Lucius bowed his head and genuflected.

Harry's scar burst with renewed pain, as he fell to the ground. This wasn't simply death eater revenge. This was Voldemort's revenge. His fears were completely realized. The two men held Harry to the ground.

"Nott...Goyle... are you completely incompetent?" hissed Voldemort, "Tie up his arms... behind his back."

Harry's hands were violently pulled behind his back, and bound together.

"Now then, on your feet, Potter!" Voldemort demanded.

Nott and Goyle sniggered as Harry struggled to his feet, not able to use his hands to boost him up.

"What are you planning to do?" Harry asked, looking into Voldemort's eyes, ignoring the growing pain in his scar. "Planning to finish me off? You think that fourth time's the charm? Well, let's get it over with, let it be fair, let us duel."

"Tut, tut, tut, Harry, I do believe you are outnumbered. I would watch what you say." He began to approach Harry, "Hold his arms!"

Nott and Goyle grabbed Harry's arms as Voldemort stood face to face with Harry. "I do think that," he reached into Harry's side pocket and grabbed Harry's wand, "I will be taking this."

"That is not fair, at least let the fight be fair!"

"Who said this was going to be fair?" Voldemort grabbed Harry's neck, "Now you listen to me Harry, we are not playing by your rules. We are not playing by the wizarding code of conduct. We are playing by my rules. And if you do not follow my rules, it will be most unpleasant."

Harry felt nothing but rage and anger. Voldemort had already cost him so much in his life. The threats to Harry didn't scare him all he felt was fury. "Fuck... you..."

Voldemort snorted, "I did warn you." He held Harry's head between his hands and began to bring his face closer to Harry. Harry didn't even have a second to register what was happening. Abruptly, Voldemort's lips brushed Harry's scar. Have mercy...have mercy... not Harry... AVADA KEDAVRA...a woman's scream... his mother's scream... intense pain... crashing over him...coursing through his veins... was this what she felt?... was this what my mother felt in the last moment's of her life? Harry felt himself sink to his knees. Voldemort continued to hold him. Harry was vaguely aware that Voldemort was coming closer again, and he weakly tried to pull away.

Voldemort smirked as he brought his mouth to Harry's ear, "Crucio!"

Pain engulfed his entire body. His bones burned, his blood pumped through his veins like poison, his scar felt like it was splitting, and he felt himself falling. He was falling and falling and falling, with only the abyss of unconsciousness to claim him.

***

"Oh, dear. The Weasley twins are taunting the giant squid again." Dumbledore sighed, staring out the window towards the lake. Fawkes ruffled his feathers in response. Dumbledore turned back to the giant crimson bird. "You're looking a bit peaked today. A little bit...burned out?" Dumbledore chuckled to himself at his joke; Fawkes rolled his eyes.

Out of the blue, the fire began spitting and crackling very strangely. Dumbledore turned and regarded it in a politely puzzled way. A split second later, Sirius and Snape tumbled out of the fireplace. Dumbledore smiled pleasantly.

"Ah! Severus! Sirius! Evening tea already? I completely lost track of time!" Dumbledore gave a slight wave of his wand and a tea set appeared on the desk, the teapot hovering in the air in front of him. Turning, he began to pour the tea. If he had been looking through the window still, he would have seen the squid, finally pushed past it's limit, grabbing hold of the Weasley twins in exasperation and tossing them about.

"No, Headmaster, it is not time for evening tea!" Snape cut it.

"No?" Dumbledore set down the teapot, turning back to look at Snape with a very morose expression.

"NO!" Snape took a deep breath. "There has been an...incident."

Dumbledore looked from one man to the other and noticed the serious expressions on their faces. "Go on."

"Well...it's involving two students...at the fencing club."

"Let me guess, Severus...Potter and Malfoy?"

"Yes."

Dumbledore sighed. "What happened?"

"Well, we're still not entirely sure, Headmaster..." Snape began, but then the still panicking Sirius interrupted.

"Harry's foil broke-"

"The two boys were giving a demonstration," Snape interjected.

"Draco threw him one-"

"Malfoy threw him a foil when his-"

"And then Harry grabbed it and...and...AND..."

"WILL YOU CALM DOWN?!?!" Snape roared. "As I was saying," he continued, glaring at Sirius, "Potter and Malfoy were demonstrating and Potter's foil broke. Malfoy tossed him another one, and when Potter caught it...he disappeared. We think it was a portkey."

"Oh, dear. Where is Mr. Malfoy now?"

"In his Dormitory. Locked up. Waiting for you to talk to him."

"Well, let us go and speak to him."

***

The colors swirled around Draco, a fusion of light and sound in the few seconds it took the portkey to transport he and Pettigrew. In Draco's mind, the trip wasn't long enough. Seconds later, he and Pettigrew were tossed out onto the floor, landing hard. Peter fell to his knees, but Draco remained standing, barely ruffled as he coolly surveyed the room. The portkey had taken them to the drawing room of Malfoy manner, oh-so-familiar in Draco's mind. Involuntarily, Draco's right hand clenched as if with remembered pain, and he felt his stomach turn at the memories that would still flood back to him every time he entered this room. Swallowing hard, he shoved the annoying thoughts further down inside of him, leaving only a nervous wrenching in the pit of his stomach.

"Ah, Draco."

Draco paused a moment before turning slowly around to face his father. Lucius Malfoy smiled at his son. "How nice to have you home, Draco." Draco laughed derisively. Lucius' smile became a bit fixed.

"Careful, boy," Lucius said softly, the dangerous tone in his voice all-too-familiar to Draco. "I brought you back for an important matter...for Salazar's sake, what happened to your hands?"

Surprised, Draco glanced down at his hands and did a double take. His normally alabaster skin was crimson with blood flowing from the numerous cuts on his hands. He had completely forgotten the mirror...

"Ah...nothing- I mean, I don't know." Draco responded, shrugging noncommittally. Lucius' eyes narrowed.

"Don't know, eh?" he echoed. "I'm sure. Anyway, it matters not. Just make sure you don't bleed on my floor."

Draco felt the anger rising again at his father's words. 'He doesn't give a damn about me.' Out loud, he echoed after his father's words. "Oh no, Sir, I won't bleed on the floor." He lowered his voice, speaking under his breath as his father left the room. "Won't bleed on your precious floor. You and your fucking possessions-"

"Draco!"

Guiltily, Draco swung around. His mother stood behind him in the open doorway, framed against the stormy night sky. A silver velvet cape hung about her shoulders, weighed down with water and dragging slightly on the floor behind her. Her silver blond hair, so much like Draco's, hung loose to her waist, wild with the wind and dripping with rain. Her grey-blue eyes were reproachful as she stared at her son.

"Mother," Draco said simply. He stepped forwards, holding his arms out gently.

"Draco!" Narcissa laughed, stepping forward to meet her son, taking him gently in her arms. "You've grown so much!" she exclaimed softly. Draco smiled. Draco's mother tipped her face and kissed him twice on each cheek, laughing as she did so. Draco unconsciously tightened his hold on his mother. 'I could hold you like this forever...' he thought silently. '...If you would only let me.'

"Draco! What's gotten into you?" Narcissa exclaimed, laughing. Draco merely pulled her tighter.

"Nothing, mother," he whispered into her hair, "I just missed you."

"I missed you too," she answered softly. Her voice caught in her throat, unnoticed by Draco. Gently, she pulled away from Draco, who unwillingly relinquished his hold on her. As he went to move away, Narcissa caught sight of his hands and caught them in her own "Oh, my..." She looked up at her son with fear in her eyes. "Draco...what...what happened to your hands?"

"Noth-"

"Nothing, Nothing." The cold, drawling voice of Lucius Malfoy interrupted whatever lie Draco was about to make. He walked towards them slowly, arms open as though to embrace them both. At the sound of her husband's voice, Narcissa stiffened and her eyes glassed over. "Draco has already told me that there is no cause for alarm, my dearest." Lucius rested his hand on his wife's shoulder. At the first touch of her husband, Narcissa flinched. Lucius tightened his hold on his wife's shoulder, squeezing hard. Narcissa uttered not a sound, but her eyes shut as to conceal her pain.

"Stop it!" The words burst from Draco's lips before he had any chance of controlling them. Narcissa's eyes flew open and she stared in terror at Draco. Lucius' hand relaxed almost immediately; his gaze turned to his son.

"Stop it?" he echoed, relinquishing his hold on his wife as he stepped towards his son. Draco almost wished he hadn't said anything at all- almost.

"Yes," he shot back, swallowing hard at the fear he had tried to squash down which was now resurfacing. "Stop it. Leave her alone." Draco unconsciously gripped his right wrist; his ribs began to throb as if with remembered pain. His actions did not go unnoticed by his father. Lucius smiled, enjoying his son's torment.

"Narcissa...would you please leave the room, dearest?"

"Whatever for?" Narcissa attempted to sound casual, but her voice trembled with hidden fear. Lucius smiled at her.

"Nothing to worry about. I just have some things to discuss with Draco about the upcoming events." At the mention of the "upcoming events," Narcissa stiffened, her face white. She forced a small smile and nodded rigidly.

"As you wish." Giving one last small, forced smile to her son, Narcissa left the room, silver cape dragging behind her. Watching her go, Draco felt the imaginary pain in his limbs grow even more as he found himself alone with his father. Lucius quickly noticed his son's discomfort.

"Yes, boy, you remember," he hissed. "You remember quite well what happened the last time you dared to stand up to me." He walked towards his son, closing the gap between them. Draco stood his ground. 'I won't run from him.'

Very close to Draco now, Lucius spoke very softly, his words seething with hatred. "No son of mine gets away with telling me what to do." With that, Lucius reached up and backhanded his son across the face. The force of the blow knocked Draco backward into the wall. Slowly, Draco slid to the floor, refusing to allow the pain show on his face, glaring at his father. Lucius stood before him, his breathing heavy with his anger. "No son of mine gets away with this sniveling, over-emotional mentality," he hissed through labored breaths. "No son of mine would do to himself what you have done. No son of mine would try to-" Lucius broke off.

Draco glared up at his father, familiar pain twinging in his body, hands at his sides. He refused to touch the mark he knew must already be rising up on his face; he refused to let his hands go to his aching wrist. He sat on the floor before his father, one knee pulled up, the other leg stretched out, hands by his sides, allowing his blood to drip on the floor, ignoring the throbbing on his cheek. He simply scowled up at his father, no expression on his face other than in his eyes, which flashed with barely leashed-in lightening, like the calm before a storm.

Lucius glared down at his son. "Get up," he seethed, voice full of disgust. "Get up and get yourself decent. The others will be here soon, and they'll want to see you, though why they do I will never understand." Lucius reached out and grabbed Draco's collar, pulling the boy's face close to his. "You better not disgrace me, boy. If you do, you won't need to resort to your own means again. I'll do the job myself." Lucius gave Draco a look that showed that he meant it and tossed the boy to the floor, leaving the room.

Draco stared after his father, face still expressionless. 'If only I could be sure that you were being truthful,' he thought silently, 'You think I care if you follow through? Please do. I've been wishing for it for years...'

In the small room adjacent to the drawing room, the crimson curtains that stood in place of a door twitched slightly. A faced peeped out from behind them, long blonde hair obstructing the person's view. Narcissa pushed her hair out of her face, azure eyes filled with pain as she watched her husband leave, as she watched her son's torment.

"Draco..."

Draco looked up. Narcissa was staring at him, eyes wide with fear and brimming over with iridescent, opal-like tears. He rose to his feet to face her. "Mother."

"Oh, Draco..." Narcissa pulled her son close, one hand gently stroking his head in an effort to comfort or calm him. Draco forced a small laugh.

"I'm fine, mum," he said, trying to sound it. Narcissa immediately burst into silent, strangled sobs...sobs she did her best to hide, and indeed, to most people they would have gone unnoticed. Draco, however, could sense his mother's pain. No matter how hard she tried to put on a facade, Draco knew when she was hurting. He fought hard to keep down his own tears at the pain he could sense through every sob that wracked her frail body. "It's okay, Mother.... He's gone now." His words soothed her sobs somewhat; when Narcissa realized that Draco knew that she was crying, she stifled her weeping. Draco gently rubbed her back, trying to soothe away the last of his mother's tears. "Shhhh....it's all right. I'm here, mum." Draco watched in silence as the blood from his hands dripped slowly and silently into his mother's cape, turning the silver velvet crimson. 'Finish it, Father. Finish what I began four years ago.'

***

September 2^nd

Evening Falls

As they made their way down the stairs, Snape eyed the Headmaster curiously. The last time he had seen Dumbledore so angry had been after the third task of the Triwizard Tournament, when Barty Crouch had taken Harry away against Dumbledore's express orders. The twinkle was gone from Dumbledore's eye; he looked positively dangerous.

"And you're sure you locked off all of the fireplaces?" Dumbledore inquired fervently.

"Yes, Headmaster," Snape answered quickly, "The entire school is on lockdown."

They reached the door. "Allow me, Headmaster," Snape said, pushing his way to the front of the three. Standing directly in front of the door, he muttered some words under his breath and gave a quick flourish of his wand. "And now all we need is the password," Snape mumbled, seeming reluctant to say the word aloud. He cleared his throat. "Atticus Abracadabra!"

The door slid open and Snape rushed in, leaving Sirius staring after him in confusion at the password before following him in. Most of the students were still in the common room. The three professors ignored the students as they swept on through and up the stairs towards the fifth year dormitories. The fifth year boys were all crowded outside the room, Crabbe and Goyle banging their meaty fists on the door.

"Draco!" Crabbe railed. "C'mon! Let us in!"

"OUT OF OUR WAY!" Snape roared, brushing at the students, black robes making him look like a huge overgrown bat. Terrified, the students scattered. Snape spoke another incantation and the door swung open, revealing...

"Draco?" Snape stepped into the room, closely followed by Dumbledore and Sirius.

"He's not here," Sirius stated bluntly. Snape glared at him.

"I am aware of that, Black!"

"Well he's your obnoxious little student! Can't you even handle a simple fire lockdown?!"

"Watch yourself, Black," Snape growled

Dumbledore knelt on the floor, closely examining something. "Come now," he said, slightly annoyed. He stood up and turned to face the two men. "Something has clearly happened to young Mister Malfoy." With that, he held up a piece of the object he had been examining: a shard of a broken, bloody mirror.

TBC