When Enemies Interact

Chapter 15: Discovery and Pain

* - ~ * ~ - * - ~ * ~ - * - ~ * ~ - * - ~ * ~ - * - ~ * ~ - * - ~ * ~ - * - ~ * ~ - * - ~ * ~ - *

Draco slowly stood up as his father came to a halt in front of him. He stared into the steel grey eyes that he had inherited and felt a cold shiver run through his veins. He feared his father, as Lucius was so much more powerful and evil than he was, but Draco wasn't going to let it show. He could never let it show.

"I thought you knew better than to betray me, Draco," Lucius began in a deadly cold tone that caused goosebumps to prickle up on Draco's skin. He only narrowed his eyes at his father as he continued. "I've taught you better than to go fooling around with a filthy little Mudblood like that Granger. I know about that kiss under that table in the library and you living in the same quarters with her... Very interesting how you have managed to develop these sorts of feelings for a Mudblood girl I thought you hated. I'm utterly ashamed of your pathetic behaviour."

Draco's eyes flashed darkly as he stared at his awful father with a gaze full of nothing but hatred. "It's none of your bloody business what's going on between me and Hermione," he sneered. "I don't care that you've found out about us sharing quarters and the kisses we've shared, even if I am curious as to how you found out about us in the library. That's our business. You never did teach me better, either. You've taught me nothing but evil since I was born. Torturing Muggles and Mudbloods... You taught me as though there was no good in the world. That everything is dark and cruel like you and you can't even handle the fact that I've changed. That I'm not growing into the person you want me to; that I'm not growing into the shadow of you and following your inhumane footsteps. I want to do anything but that."

Draco gulped, suddenly frightened, as he watched the anger built up in Lucius. Never, in all his life, had Draco taken it that far and it had caused his father to look angrier than he ever had in front of him. Lucius stepped forward slightly and roughly grabbed the front of Draco's robes, pulling him forward quickly.

"Never talk to me in that manner!" Lucius snarled. "Do you suddenly think it safe to betray and insult me like that, after all I've done to help you? -"

"Help me?" Draco gasped out. "Since when have you ever helped me? You've treated me like I'm absolutely nothing all my life!"

"Oh I have helped you," Lucius sneered, the shadow of a malicious grin forming on his lips. "I thought you might have had some idea, but no, you've been too caught up in your pitiful love life with that Granger to even suspect it. You would never have gotten Head Boy in the end if it weren't for me. I thought you might have recognised that Boot's illness as I taught you all about it, but obviously you didn't. It was the Crillian Virus, which is a type of Dark virus that can easily be fed into someone with a mere couple of drops of potion. I fed it to Boot the morning he became ill, with a little help from one of his friends under the Imperius Curse. I had planted the potion on the table and forced the friend to guide Boot to it and drink it. A couple of hours later, he was rushed to the hospital wing in the first stages of the illness..."

Draco merely stared at his father, feeling the hatred increase inside of him.

"... I knew Dumbledore would see it best to send Boot home, as, unlike you, he was smart enough to recognise the virus. I knew that, with you next in line, he would give you the job of Head Boy and he did. Little did I know that you'd fall for the worthless Mudblood you were working with. The idea of that never even crossed my mind."

Draco continued to just stare at his father, wondering what he was going to say or do next.

"So you see, I did help you," Lucius continued. "I led you to where you wanted to be: Head Boy and I've been wanting to speak to you ever since. I haven't been able to, though, because Dumbledore moved you and the Mudblood into your own private quarters, without even notifying me, as a school governor. I have recently been given inside information, however, that has told me the reason and I am not impressed at all. Did you honestly think it wise to once more betray me and go to the pathetic headmaster about me?"

Draco didn't answer, just continued to stare, thoughts and questions moving around his brain in rapid circles as he wondered how his father had been able to get all this information.

Lucius let go of Draco, turned around and began to walk away. At first, Draco thought his father was leaving, without giving him a real punishment, but canceled that suspicion from his mind instantly as his father stopped, ten feet away, and turned around, his wand gripped firmly in his hand, ready to strike.

Draco didn't have any time to react to what was about to happen, until he heard the curse exit Lucius' mouth.

"Crucio!" The curse hit him with a great amount of strength and Draco felt pain instantly surge through his body. It was worse than he had remembered. The pain was so excruciating, it caused Draco to just want to scream. He knew it best not to, though, as it would attract people to the scene and Lucius would just see that as an added reason to torture and hurt him even more.

Draco could distantly hear his father's cruel laugh through the rush in his ears, and it became fainter with every passing second. He fell painfully to his knees, wanting everything to stop, but it didn't, the pain only grew stronger. The agony was blinding him and darkness was beginning to engulf his senses. As he fell flat onto his stomach on the cold stone ground, gasping terribly in pain, Draco could only let one thing pass through his throbbing head before unconsciousness took over: 'I hope he doesn't kill me...'

*

It was growing dark when Draco finally regained consciousness. He found it strange that he was still lying face-down on the cold stone ground of the dungeons, as he had thought that at least one person should've come across him and see him in this condition. Even if it was still the school holidays, there were still at least half a dozen Slytherins at the castle that should've noticed him at the foot of the stairs as they headed to down to their common room or up for a meal in the Great Hall. Even Snape should've come across him...

His whole body was aching. He knew for a fact that his father had done a lot more to him once he was unconscious. He could feel the wounds and bruises against the stone as they throbbed. He slowly and very painfully sat up and lifted his hand to touch the skin below his throbbing, watery right eye. He found it swollen and at his touch, the pain from it increased. He was positive he would have other bruises like that on other parts of his body.

He struggled as he stood, becoming dizzy from the movement and lightly lent against the wall close by. He felt like the Cruciatus Curse had hit him about twenty times rather than only the once. He took several deep breaths before beginning to slowly and painfully head up the narrow dungeon stairwell into the brightly lit Entrance Hall. He looked around for some sign of someone who could help him, only to find the Hall completely empty and silent. Groaning hoarsely, he swallowed agonizingly and tasted the metallic flavour of blood in his mouth. He wearily staggered across the echoing floor of the Hall to the marble staircase to head up the common room, hoping he wouldn't lose consciousness again in the meantime.

The journey up to the portrait of Daniella and Iain was a long and painful one. Draco had to stop every now and then to regain both clear vision and balance, but he made it there eventually. He couldn't help but have to sit in front of the portrait for several minutes as he let tears stream out of his eyes as the pain truly finally got to him. It had been a long time since he'd cried and it felt almost relieving as he did so. His father had definitely taken it a step further with the punishment this time, because Draco had never felt this much pain in all his life.

He made sure all the tears had left his eyes before he headed on through the portrait and up more stairs to the common room. He entered the room and saw Hermione sitting on the couch in front of the blazing fire that lit the large room, casting eerie shadows here and there.

The moment he had entered, Hermione had turned and glanced over at him, her expression unseen. "Draco, where have you been...?" She trailed off as she noticed Draco's brutally bruised face. She stood up and headed over to him, her face showing both upset emotions and worry. "Your father...?" She stared pointedly at the large, swollen bruise around his eye.

Draco didn't feel he could manage anything but a small nod, but decided to elaborate a bit as he sat down on the couch, feeling his legs wouldn't be able to support him much longer. "He knows about everything to do with you and me, even our kiss in the library." He looked at Hermione, who had taken a seat beside him. Her face had become confused and he knew why.

"How can he know about that? Nobody knows about that kiss but us and nobody else could've seen us. It was only us and Filch ... and Harry in the library that night..." Realisation suddenly dawned on her. "Harry must have seen us, it's the only real explanation. With all the noise Filch was making, it seems only natural for him to wake up and, like us, he would've tried to find somewhere to hide. Perhaps he found he table in his rush and seen us kissing underneath. I know he would've gone to Ron or someone and told them. Perhaps a Slytherin overheard and told your father. It's the only explanation..." She went silent, her expression turning back to upset.

Draco just sat there; wishing all the pain would disappear. Hermione was staring down at her hands and he could only just see the tears that were running slowly and silently down her cheeks.

"Why didn't you go to Madam Pomfrey?" she asked quietly, looking up at him again. Draco had a feeling she would question him on this.

"My father would only see that as another reason to punish me," Draco said truthfully in a hoarsely voice. Hermione bit her lip and nodded, looking back down at her hands.

"We have to do something to stop your father doing this, Draco," she said. "Your father could've killed you today and you know it. I understand that you've told Dumbledore, but I think we have to take this further. Nobody's supposed to get away with stuff like this like your father has."

Draco only nodded and reached up to touch around his throbbing eye, but Hermione stopped him.

"Come on, Draco, you need to lay down and I'll try my best to clean you up." She supported him as he stood and she slowly and carefully guided him to his bedroom and helped him onto his neatly-made bed. "I'll be back in a moment. In the meantime, try to get some of those clothes off if you want me to clean you up thoroughly."

Draco watched as she exited the room, before slowly taking off his clothes so he was soon only wearing a pair of silk black boxer shorts. He looked down at himself, taking in the large amount of severe bruises and bloody cuts. His father had never hurt him like this.

Hermione re-entered the room, carrying a small bucket of warm water and a fluffy white cloth. Her lips trembled as she took in the cuts and bruises on his usually well-toned body. She pulled his desk chair up so it sat beside his bed and sat down, dampening the cloth as she did so.

"Does he always hurt you like this?" she asked quietly in a muffled voice. Draco didn't have to look at her to know that she still had tears in her eyes. She started dabbing the cloth at one of the cuts on his chest, but looked up when he didn't answer.

He had blink away a small tear before he shook his head, mumbling a small, "No," allowing her to continue with her care.

She turned her work to his face, dabbing the cloth softly around his eyes, ridding them of their tears as she tried to clean up the injuries thoroughly. She then conjured up a small ice pack with her wand and told him to hold it against the swollen flesh around his right eye, before making her way down to the rest of his body, taking her time with every cut and bruise she came across. He took in every single one of her tiny touches, feeling tingles run from the point her fingertips had brushed, all through his sore body, causing him to almost forget about the pain that was still strongly penetrating through his body.

He continued to hold the ice pack against his eye, feeling that part of his face go numb as he watched in silence as she went on cleaning his wounds. He turned over slowly when she asked him to and allowed her to clean up that side as well, feeling even more of her soft, butterfly-like touches on his skin. He watched her as she quietly took her wand from his bedside table again and cast a small spell over his body, causing some of the bruises and cuts to become fainter, though the pain still stayed.

She sat back down and helped him as he turned back over onto his back.

"I can't get rid of all the injuries, but I got rid of some," she sat. "I'm going to go and visit Madam Pomfrey in a moment and get some of that pain-relieving potion she gave you after that Quidditch accident you had, which should help you. I'm also going to inform Dumbledore about this, so if there were anything you'd like me to inform Dumbledore about..."

Draco stayed silent for a moment before remembering what Lucius had said about terry. "Father was the one that got Boot ill. He fed the virus to him with a potion," he said. Hermione nodded. "Tell Dumbledore I want to talk to him, as well." Hermione nodded again.

"I will," she said, standing up, "but first I have to get that potion for you. I'll be back soon with it and I think we'll go see Dumbledore together. In the meantime, though, try to get some rest. You look utterly exhausted." Draco silently nodded and closed his eyes.

Hermione looked down at him and smiled. She grabbed the blanket that was folded at the end of his bed, unfolded it and laid it over him. She heard him mumble a small "thanks" and left the room, closing the door behind her and headed out of the common room in the direction of the hospital wing, a small smile on her lips.