This is the same as All Those Little Voices its just a more mature version, not too much though.

Summary: Draco had to live with torture, rape and pain worse then any living being should have to suffer from his own father because he couldn't kill the man he loved. HP/DM non-com LM/DM

Pairings: DM/HP non-con LM/DM

Warnings: SLASH, rape, torture

Not you're cup? Well bugger of then!


This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J K Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

End Disclaimer!

Please keep in mind that English is not my first language!


He had tried everything he knew but nothing was ever good enough, his father was always displeased. He couldn't befriend another boy in his first year, couldn't beat that said boy in sports in his second year, got hit by a mudblood in his third year, didn't get into the tournament in his fourth year, didn't get enough O.W.Ls in his fifth year, failed the mission he had been given by their lord in his sixth year.

And now at seventeen years old, he had failed yet again. Failed to kill the boy he loved. His father had been very disappointed with him then, more disappointed and more angry the ever before. Draco had had to pay dearly for all his errors through the years, for every little wrong he had ever done.

The beatings and whippings that caused infected and disgusting wounds and bruises on his body was not the worst of it all, nor the curses and hexes that made him tremble and scream in fear and pain that his father bestowed upon him.

No worst was the mind games Lucius played with him, when he pretended to forgive his pathetic son for his failures, told Draco that he loved him when he fucked him and caressed his trembling body in the cold dark cell.

His father laughed at his weakness, laughed when Draco cried out in both agony and shame when his own father raped him over and over again.

Every time he touched Draco he forced hid son's body to react, Lucius was torturing him by being gentle and saying horrible things with a sweet loving voice in his ear. "I love you Draco, I'm the only one who loves you anymore, no one else would even want to touch you anymore, but I still love you my son, I still want you."

Lucius caressed Draco, kissed him and told him how much he loved him. He took his time in bringing Draco to climax but he did it every time, every night, sometimes during the day to, not that Draco knew which has which anymore.

When Draco got so weak and drained that Lucius could not force an erection from his son he used the help of potions and spells so that he could torture Draco even more.

The words changed but Lucius tone never stopped being false and loving, he told Draco what a dirty freak he was for letting his own father fuck him but that Lucius still loved Draco, even though his son was now dirtier than a simple Knockturn alley whore, it was all said in a sweet and caring tone of voice.

Lucius would hold him and comfort him saying that it was okay, that no one would ever want to touch a monster like him but that he would always have Lucius even after death.

Draco just cried. He had cried so much these last few months that he wondered if he was ever going to run out of tears.

His mother visited every Sunday to pray for him, she didn't want him to end up in hell just because he was a dirty sodomite; he was still somewhat her son and responsibility.

The first couple of times she hade come down Draco had begged her to help him escape, trying to tell her that it wasn't him, that it was Lucius that was the sinner, she had just ignored him and chanted her prayers.

After some time he had started to beg for her forgiveness, plead with her that she'd forgive him for his disgusting acts and perverse behavior, she had looked at him once and said "'tis not my forgiveness you need, 'tis the forgiveness of God" he had just cried more until she walked up the stairs from the dungeons to disappear up into the warm light of the kitchen.

After many months of the same routine he joined her in her prayers, at first it had been in an attempt to get her attention, to gain her love once more. She had smiled but that was all the acknowledgement he got. Yet he continued to pray for forgiveness every Sunday with his mother, but not for the forgiveness of God but forgiveness from the only person he had ever really loved.

He couldn't remember when his father had stopped coming, he was only relieved that he would not have to live through another of his father's games it was a small relief but a relief none the less.

After some time his mother too had stopped coming and then he started to worry, what if he would have to sit in that dark cell all alone until he died, what if they had forgot about him.

It didn't take long for the voices to come after that. Some of them would try to comfort him, tell him that everything would be alright; it was almost like they tried to caress his mind and show him that he was still loved.

He ignored them at first, didn't want to believe them, didn't want to hear them because they seemed to be mocking him and reminded him of his father but after a time he was too exhausted to fight it anymore so he let the loving voices soothe him and the wounds on his soul.

Others seemed to be connected to Lucius, they would tell him what a vile and disgusting little boy he was, that he was weak, that no man would let another man touch him in such a way. They told Draco that he was pathetic, a shameful son who longed for his fathers touch, simply disgusting.

Those voices laughed at him when he cried at night, told him that he behave like a spoilt little girl, that not even Draco's own father could love someone as dirty and disgusting as the freak that he was.

There was voices that chanted prayers, always without stopping they chanted their prayers in a hopeless attempt to find peace, to have love and warmth, they begged for God's forgiveness but mostly for the forgiveness from his love, they begged and begged, night and day, they always begged and prayed to be forgiven.

Then there was one voice, silkily smooth and soothing, the one of his lover, it was cool and refreshing and at the same time warm and loving, everything he needed and anything he wanted at the same time, but never punishing, never mocking.

It would comfort him even when he felt like the darkness of his cell was suffocating him, claiming his death with it stench of blood and excrements.

The voice would tell him many times about how beautiful his lover thought Draco was, how much Draco's lover cared for him and loved him. Sometimes it would just tell Draco how sweet his smile was or how much his lover missed him.

But mostly it would tell Draco to wait just a little longer, that help was on the way, that soon his lover would be there to save him, the voice reassured Draco that he was not forgotten and that he would not die alone, it told him that his lover would not allow him to die, all alone in his cell.

Several more months passed and the only living creatures Draco saw was the mute house elf that delivered the little bowls with scraps that was Draco's food and the rats and cockroaches that he shared his dark and damp home with, neither were much company or very comforting.

After some time the house elf stopped arriving but Draco didn't care, he didn't eat that much anymore anyway. He figured that he would soon starve to death and welcomed the thought since hunger did not pain him nearly as much as his own thoughts. His lover's whispers were the only thing that held him tied to life.

"I'm coming for you my love, hold on for me, I will be there I promise." It would say and Draco would cling on to life a little more.

His breathing had started to fail him at times and he no longer had the strength to even brush away the cockroaches that climbed over him, he barely had the strength to open and close his eyes any longer when the door at the top of the stairs finally opened again. Draco would have smiled if he had had not been as weak and stiff from the cold temperature.

The loud voices of aurours could be heard from the top and they were coming closer, Draco drew a painful breath when the light of a lumos fell on him and hurt his eyes. More voices came, they all seemed to close in on him and he stared to panic but could not even scramble back into the corner because he was too weak.

"Move out of the way!" His lover's voice sounded above all of them and Draco calmed down instantly. After some small explosions the get the bars on his cell open, Draco finally felt his lover's arms wrap around him again in an embrace filled with emotion.

He managed to make a sound that could have been meant as "Harry?" from his dry and hurting throat but Harry shook his head and kissed him gently on the lips as if to make sure it wasn't a dream.

"Don't say anything, not now, there will be time for talking later." Then he lifted Draco from the ground and started to walk out of the damp and cold dungeons while the voices; the prayers, the mocking and the comforting all left Draco to be replaced with the warmth emitting from Harry's body and Draco finally felt safe again.


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