
No matter how much it hurts, Harry will always do whatever Draco asks of him. Slash. Warnings inside.
Rated: Fiction M - English - Angst/Drama - Harry P. & Draco M. - Words: 1,273 - Reviews: 8 - Favs: 15 - Follows: 5 - Published: 11-28-11 - Status: Complete - id: 7591766
|
|
A+ A- |
Warnings: Dub-con (very close to non-con), mentions of non-con and (sexual) child-abuse.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any of the characters in it.
For Better Or For Worse
They were taking that car ride again. That same damn car ride they'd gone through for years now, every few months. The ride that made Harry clutch the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. Jaw clenched, looking straight ahead. Driving too fast. The tension between the otherwise happy couple could be cut with a knife, almost suggesting nothing had changed since their Hogwarts years. These car rides were the only times Harry wished they hadn't chosen a muggle life. Flooing would be quicker, less painful.
Immediately Harry felt a pang of guilt for his thoughts. He looked over at Draco, who was sitting next to him in the passenger seat, quiet and pale. The most painful was yet to come.
"You don't have to come," Draco said quietly as he noticed Harry looking at him.
They had this same conversation every time. "I know," Harry played along to put Draco's mind somewhat at ease. There was no choice. It killed him, having to see Draco like this, but he knew that not coming along would be the death of Draco one day.
They pulled up to an abandoned parking lot. "We're here," Harry announced as he shut off the car. Draco nodded, fear starting to show in his eyes as he looked at the old building tin front of them. "Are you sure?" Harry asked, just like he did every single time. He knew Draco would never give him a different answer, but he needed to hear him say it. He needed to be reminded that they were here because Draco wanted to be. He needed to be able to recall those words in his mind later to stop himself from dragging Draco out of that horrible place.
"Yes, I'm sure."
Draco didn't want to be kissed, couldn't handle any affection at that moment. Harry knew this, but he did it anyway. Draco didn't return the kiss, but didn't push him away either. He waited patiently until Harry's lips left his.
"Let's go."
Draco allowed Harry to hold his hand as they went inside, but let go when he saw that the others were already there. There were four of them this time. Big, filthy looking men, only looking at Draco with mildly interested, predatory glances. Harry felt like vomiting, knowing that they would be touching Draco.
He made sure to show himself to them before disappearing into the shadows, where Draco wouldn't be able to see his face. They had to know he was there - after all, that was the only purpose of Harry's presence, making sure that things wouldn't get out of hand. And to take Draco home with him safely after it was over.
He watched quietly as Draco put the money on the table. One of the men took it greedily, stuffing it into his pocket. Harry bit his lip to fight his anger. It wasn't that they were poor - both Draco and himself had enough money to carry them through the rest of their lives. But the idea that Draco had to pay for what was about to be done to him, was one that Harry would never be able to get used to.
They began. The four men closed in on Draco - his Draco - as though he was some kind of prey. Two men held him down, grabbing his limbs hard enough to leave fingershaped bruises. The others tore off his clothes.
Harry closed his eyes for a moment, leaning heavily against the grimy wall, trying to tune out the sound of fabric ripping. Soon Draco would start to scream, screams of true terror that would make Harry's skin crawl.
"No, please don't!" Harry's eyes snapped open. One of the men's fat fingers were probing at Draco's delicate entrance while the others held him down, bent over the table. Harry winced inwardly, knowing that Draco would be bleeding that night.
When the first man thrust inside Draco, using no lubrication whatsoever, Draco let out a heartfelt scream, but one of the others slapped him in the face to shut him up. And he did. But then Draco looked in Harry's direction, and Harry felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest. The screams were awful, but there was nothing worse than the look of fear and pain in Draco's eyes.
The first time he'd seen it, many years ago, Harry had stepped out of the shadows, convinced that Draco had changed his mind. But Draco had been furious that Harry had stopped them. He'd been too upset to explain, but Harry had known better than to interfere again.
Now, after dozens of times of going through this, Harry was starting to understand that Draco did indeed change his mind, but that was the way he wanted it. It was his own choice to be there, but once it became real, old memories came to the surface and Draco didn't want to be there anymore. It wasn't some kind of dark, perverted roleplay. The screams, the terror, all of it was real. And Harry wasn't allowed to save him.
A silent tear rolled down Harry's cheek as he saw a chunk of Draco's blond hair fall to the floor. He looked up to see one of the men holding Draco's tightly by his hair, roughly fucking his throat while another pounded Draco's arse.
Harry tried to imagine what thoughts were being provoked inside Draco's mind, what nightmares he was reliving. There had to be more healthy ways of dealing with it than this. But they had talked about it endlessly, Harry trying to convince Draco to try seeing a therapist, a support group, anything but this. But Draco would only yell at him, telling him this was the only way. The memories were like a dull ache inside of him, he'd explained, and to deal with them he had to rip open the wounds so that they could heal again. Harry tried to understand, he really did, and in the end he couldn't argue about it. After all, he wasn't the one who had suffered through sexual abuse as a child.
When they were finally done, they carelessly left Draco lying on the ground. He was sobbing, his body slick with semen and blood. Harry walked up to him, trying not to vomit at the scent the men had left behind. He wrapped Draco in his own coat, leaving the ripped clothes behind, and carried him to the car. "It's okay. I'm here. It's just me," he quietly reassured him. "It's going to be okay."
Driving home, Harry wondered as always how he would possibly be able to go through this again. And as always, he considered leaving Draco.
But as Draco opened his eyes for a brief moment and gave him a grateful look before drifting off to sleep, Harry knew he wouldn't. Instead, he would clean him up, bathe him, take care of him. Tonight, and as many times as Draco needed him to. Because Harry was a man of his word, and that's what he had promised Draco when he'd slid that ring around his finger.
For better or for worse.
|
||||||