Title: Angels and Devils
Author: ajsocks
Beta:
sperrywink
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor am I making money off this fanfiction.
Warnings: minor character death, violence, dub-con, attempted rape
Summary: Draco is captured by the Order and during his time as a prisoner, he realizes that both light and darkness can be blinding. Written for the hp_prisonerfest on livejournal

Author's Notes: (*) indicates dialogue/paraphrases and/or scene taken directly from the Harry Potter series.

Week One

"The angels did not merely sin and lose heaven, but they passed beyond all other beings in sin and made themselves fit denizens for hell."

-Spurgeon's Sermons on Angels by Charles Haddon Spurgeon

Black fog crept between the metal bars of Azkaban, the darkness enveloped him, spoke to him in screams and tears, and blinded his mind. Draco heard a frantic yell from a voice he recognized, but couldn't remember where he heard it before. All around him the darkness disappeared into the familiar land surrounding the Malfoy Manor. Trees towered over his head, much taller than the last time he remembered until he realized it wasn't that the trees had grown, but rather he was smaller. He looked down at himself only to see a black and white puppy in his arms, tears dripped from his cheek onto the soft fur and blood seeped into his brand new slacks. His tiny arms shook the puppy and he tasted salty snot creep into his mouth as he sobbed and pleaded for the puppy to wake up.

"Fafnir!" He buried his nose into the puppy's fur and gripped it's loose skin in his hands. "Wake up! We gotta go home."

A snake slithered through the grass toward him. It's two heads hissed and warned him to leave as it licked it's bloody teeth. Draco looked up at the snake and wiped his nose on his sleeve. He grabbed a stone on the ground and hurled it at the creature and shouted, "Go away!"

The snake slithered closer to him, both heads hissed and barred it's teeth while Draco scanned the ground for another rock. He struggled to pick up a stone the size of a bowling ball and heaved it at the snake just as it was about to bite him. Draco squeezed his eyes shut and covered his face with his forearm. When he looked up he saw the snake trying to dislodge it's tail from under the stone. Draco frowned and looked around until he found a thick branch that had fallen off during the night's storm. He smiled and slammed the branch into the snake's right head until it went limp, then dropped the stick. He picked up Fafnir in his arms and carried him back to the Manor, where his father gathered him up in his arms and asked if he wanted a new puppy.

"No." Draco replied, his bottom lip extended out in a pout. "Fafnir was my puppy."

"He's dead, Draco."

His Father's voice faded with the manor as darkness took over his vision. It lasted only a moment, then he was in Madam Malkins fitting new robes for his first year at Hogwarts. Another boy with black hair and big, round glasses walked in and Draco couldn't take his eyes off him. He looked at the boy, then back at the ground and tried to listen in on what he said. He was different than the folk he was used to dealing with, and he looked quite a bit lost with everything that was happening. He could almost hear his Father's voice reproach him for even wanting to talk to such a trashy looking boy. Draco looked quickly from side to side to make sure his Father was still gone and hopped off the stand to approach the other child.

*"Hello," he said, "Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes," replied the boy.

Draco frowned and struggled to think of a good way to reply to such a boring answer. "My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands." Draco tried to sound as cool as possible, like his Father. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully Father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow." The boy watched him with a blank stare, so, panicked, Draco asked, "Have you got your own broom?"

"No."

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"No."

"I do – Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?"

"No."

"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been – imagine, being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

"Mmm"

Draco blocked out the rest of the conversation, he remembered how he looked at Hagrid and spoke about him, only to realize soon after that the boy was confused and snapped at him. He had panicked, he could stop but by the time the conversation ended he thought it had ended well. Draco was satisfied with their little exchange and was confident the boy would become his best friend. He would be a better friend than Vincent or Greg. But then -

"I think I can tell who are the wrong sort for myself, thanks"

"Stop!" Draco cried out, grasping his head and withering on the floor. He opened his eyes, but he could not see, darkness in clouds were all around him, voices echoed in his head, memories he hated, despised, wanted to keep in the locked sections of his mind, never again to relive. He was back in the Malfoy Manor in another instant. He had arrived home for the winter holiday early, and as he set down his bag for the house elves to take, he called out to his Mother.

She didn't reply, so he went up to look for her and when he reached her bedroom with a smile on his face, it was quickly wiped off by the giggles in the room. He peeked inside and first he saw the brandy on the table and two glasses, one with pink lipstick around the rim. His mother sat atop a man he didn't recognized, bouncing up and down while he moaned and grabbed her bare ass in his hands. She shifted positions and cried out, she threw her head back and he grunted while he moved one of his hands from her butt to her breast.

The man looked past her and saw him, but instead of looking surprised he just smiled. He thrust into Draco's mother and he stared at Draco, who was paralyzed with his eyes locked on the other man's. He recognized him vaguely from his Mother's gatherings, her parties he was forced to attend. The man always stood next to them, he would speak to Lucius about business yet stay closer to his Mum. Sometimes he watched Draco as he was forced to dance with Pansy. His Mum was too close to him when Lucius was speaking with another business partner. Draco ran out without bothering to close the door. He ran straight to his bedroom and knocked a house elf to the floor as he went, then buried himself in the covers. His scarf pulled tight around his neck, time went faster, a voice called out his name in the darkness.

"Stop, please!" He screamed and slammed his fist into the stone floor. Outside he heard voices and laughter coming down the hall. He groaned and took in a deep breath as the clouds of darkness came closer to him and he arched his back as he felt himself lift off the floor, yet he could still feel the chilled stone. His cheeks were dry, his voice was still even though his mouth was open, trying to release a scream. He felt his his body disappear even as half his mind was back in the Malfoy Manor, in his bed, with the scarf and hands, touching, feeling, and a whisper while his mother slept off her drunken state.

Draco opened his eyes and opened the palm of his hand. He felt his magic flow through his veins to his heart and to his mind. "Expecto," He ground out the word between clenched teeth, his face taunt and his eyes barely open. Magic pooled in his hand, he thought of the snap of his wand when he cast a spell, how the magic came from himself to the wood, and how it released. Draco thrust his hand out toward one of the dementors and shouted, "Patronum!"

Fafnir leaped from his hand and the light from his fur blinded Draco for a moment and he felt himself drop to the ground. The voices outside the cell shouted at him, but his mind felt disconnected, like he was not quite in tune with his body. Another light shot out toward him, while the other man yelled, "Get Moody!"

The smell of rust and dirt was strong, the darkness clouds were falling away and Draco took a deep breath. He saw the light flash again until he could not see the clouds and the walls around him were stones and a dripping water. Light crept in through a crack in the wall and Draco looked at it and smiled

"What are we going to do with him? This is the second time the dementors have done this to him. I don't know how they are getting past the wards."

"We can't leave him here."

"What about Potter? He said he wanted to help -"

Draco frowned at the mention of his childhood nemesis. All scars he had were from Harry Potter, the long white scars that marred his skin were his fault. Draco slowly turned his head to look at the light coming through the crack and he breathed in the humid, stuffy air. A line of sunlight warmed his cheek and shined on his eyes.


When Draco woke up and opened his eyes, his heart beat against his chest when only darkness greeted him. His hands were bound together in thick, metal cuffs and his wrists burned. He licked the blood from a crack in his bottom lip and tried to move, but found his legs shackled together with chains. Dried blood cracked on the side of his face and his head pounded against his skull and he could do nothing but groan in pain.

"They should have just killed me." He muttered and stopped trying to move.

"I wish they had, then I wouldn't have to look at you."

Draco snapped his head toward the voice. "Potter? Is that you?"

"The one and only."

"Where am I?"

"None of your business." Harry paused, then continued, "The Grimmauld Place."

Draco lifted his hands to pull the blindfold down, but it stayed where it was. He thought of what his Mother had said about the Grimmauld Place and how it had been inherited by Potter even though she should have been the one to have it. At the time she seemed more angry than sad, and he could tell by the slight whine in her voice that she had not wanted the house, but rather wanted the Death Eaters to go there instead of the Manor. Draco scoffed. He tried to yank the blindfold off again, but it refused to move. "Take off the blindfold."

"No."

Draco sneered. "Figures. Haven't changed at all, I see. Who else is here? Your little Mudblood and lapdog? I bet she's trying to figure out the best way to get information out of me right now, isn't she? So what'll it be? Torture?"

Draco wasn't prepared for Harry's open palm to slam into his cheek. He spun to the left and hit the ground face first and bit the inside of his cheek. Blood seeped onto his tongue and he spat the salty liquid from his mouth and turned around. Adrenaline pulsed into his blood as he listened for Harry, waiting for him to strike him again and determined to be ready for it.

"It's just you and me, Malfoy. As for getting information out of you, I don't really think you know anything worth it, but Moody seems to think so. That's probably why you're still alive. I would have killed you if I had the chance. After what you did -"

"That I killed Dumbledore? As much as I hate to admit -"

"I'm aware that Snape cast the spell, but you had as much to do with it as he did." Harry paused. "There are a few things I know you know. We've managed to destroy all but three horcruxes the past six months, but we don't know where they are. I don't think you know any of that. But I do think you know where Voldemort is, or better yet, where Snape is." Draco shivered at the mere mention of the Dark Lord's name, but Harry continued, "And I think you know what he's planning."

"Did you borrow Longbottom's brain, Potter? Because everything you just said is preposterous –"

"Shut it!"

"Take off the blindfold and I might." Draco tried to sit up but couldn't, so he leaned on his elbow to raise himself up off the ground. The cuffs cut into his wrists in this position and he could feel dried blood crack open so fresh blood could ooze from the partly open wound. "Why the blindfold and the cuffs? Are you that afraid of me? You should be, after all, I am a Malfoy."

"No. And your family is just a bunch of blond heads. I don't see anything special about something that can be taken away so easily." Harry took a step forward toward him, the sound made Draco inch back, he was aware suddenly of just how close Harry was to him. "But Hermione suggested it to me the other day." There was a click, then a soft buzz filled the room. "It's an electric clipper. It's muggle." Draco stayed silent and tried to inch back, but his shoulder touched the wall. He felt Harry knee brush past his own as Harry knelt down next to him. "It cuts hair."

"Hair? Oh, you bloody ponce -" Draco reared back, but his head hit the wall. His hand immediately went to the back of his head head, but the cuffs didn't allow him to touch where the wall had hit. Draco sneered. "Don't you fucking touch me."

"I wasn't aware you had a choice."

Harry grabbed the back of his head and pulled him away from the wall. Draco cried out, tears stung his eyes but he kept them off his cheeks. The vibration of the electric clippers soothed his pounding skull temporarily before he felt his hair brush past his cheeks. Once he was done, Harry turned off the clippers and brought Draco's hands up. On his right hand was a ring with the Malfoy crest he had received for his birthday. Harry yanked it off his hand and Draco tried to lunge forward to grab it back. He felt exposed, almost like he was naked without it. Harry shoved him away.

"The blindfold stays on at all times, but I'll take off the cuffs while you go to the toilet. If you take it off, the cuffs stay on even while you're in there."

"And let me guess," Draco drawled. "I only get the bare necessities and I only get five minutes to piss and shower."

"You said it, not me."

"Potter -"

"Get up." Harry grabbed his upper arm and pulled him up. Draco waited, he felt Harry's body heat next to his as he whispered a spell to release the shackles around Draco's feet. Harry made him turn around and walk forward for several steps before Draco heard a door open. "This is the bathroom. I magicked the blindfold so you can't take it off."

"What," Draco drawled. "Don't think you can trust me?"

Harry didn't answer him, he simply muttered a spell under his breath and the chain connecting the cuffs broke in half. Draco waited until the door shut behind him before he collapsed to the floor, he touched his hand to his chest and felt his heartbeat. It beat furiously against his ribcage and the sound and feel of it sent warmth to his blood. He shivered in the darkness that was his reality, not even a smidgen of light made it through the cotton blindfold. Draco clenched his teeth together and tried to pry the blindfold off, his fingers clawed at the cloth but his nails caught his skin and scratched his forehead until he felt liquid seep into the cloth. Both tears from his cheeks and blood stained the blindfold, and there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop it.

The shower was easy – one knob to control the heat, which took Draco several minutes to figure out that hot was actually left, not as far right as possible. He felt the dirt dislodge and flow with the water down the drain. He touched his hair and grimaced. "I have a goddamn buzz cut." He whispered with a shake of his head. "Father would have a fit." When he got out, he realized that his clothes were either gone or he had lost them. So, after a frantic search that produced no results, Draco turned the water back on and stood there with his arms crossed and his lips tightly pressed together.

"Did you drown in there? You don't have any hair to wash so what are you -"

"You stole my clothes."

"Just to wash them – Malfoy, I put a new set right here. Mrs. Weasley said your clothes were too torn up to fix -"

"Just get the fuck out!" Draco stepped out of the bath, his cheeks red and his hand outstretched to touch anything available His foot caught the edge of the tub and he brought his hands out to protect his face and squeezed his eyes shut. Instead of hitting the ground, Draco fell into Harry's warm chest instead. Harry's arms steadied him and pulled him back up into a standing position.

"They're right here, Jesus." Harry pressed the clothes into Draco's palm and let go of him. "I'll be right outside. Hurry up."

Once Harry was outside, Draco felt the clothes he was given and his face twisted into a snarl. "Hand me downs?" The pants were gigantic, Draco was unsure he would be able to get them to stay on his hips, and he had been given a jumper that, after a while of feeling it, he had the suspicion had a big, fat H on it. He slipped on the clothes and stepped out of the bathroom with the biggest possible sneer he could manage.

"Your going to get wrinkles." Harry said before muttering a spell under his breath that reconnected the cuffs. The shackles, however, remained gone. "Over there is a blanket for you to sleep on. I took out the bed."

"Excuse me?"

"I decided you didn't deserve a bed if you were going to be such a prat and not tell us anything."

"Potter -"

The door slammed shut, leaving Draco alone in the darkness. A shiver ran through his body as he remembered the clouds of darkness the dementors brought. How easily they broke through his defenses to his memories, to his life. Draco knelt down to feel for the blanket, and once he found it, he laid down onto of it and turned over to hide himself inside it.


The most he heard of Harry was when he opened the door to slide in a plate of food that suspiciously never had any eating utensils. At first he refused to eat without them, but once six meals went by, he realized two things: Potter was probably only feeding him twice a day and he was probably not going to give him utensils. Which meant, he wanted him to eat like a dog.

"I am not a dog." Draco muttered as he breathed in the scent of apple cinnamon and oatmeal. His stomach growled and with every moment Draco cursed Harry under his breath.

Draco fell asleep next to the food, the dementors were all around him within his dream, his soul was lifting from his body. He was no longer blindfolded, but in front of his Mother's door again, seeing her frolic with that man. The man's blue eyes watched him as he drove her closer and closer to climax. Then, in his room, that man next to his bed.

"I just wanted to apologize if I made you uncomfortable." He whispered into Draco's ear, his breath hot and wet against Draco's ear. He put his hand on Draco's shoulder and squeezed. "You're not going to tell your Father, are you? Your Mother doesn't know you saw."

Draco shook his head and through the covers he said, "I won't tell."

His fingers were soft as they caressed his neck and then brushed his cheek. "That's a good boy." His face was the only thing Draco could see, the knot in his stomach brought bile to his tongue, the tang of stomach acids burned his throat and -

Draco felt someone touch his mind briefly, and he shot up and brought up his mental barriers. His eyes searched through the darkness for someone, but instead he could only hear the deep breath of Harry Potter standing next to him. Draco reached out with his cuffed hands and pushed Harry as hard as he could to the ground and scrambled onto his feet. He started to run away, but his foot landed in the oatmeal, sending him into the floor and his foot covered in food.

"Malfoy – Malfoy, stop!"

Draco clawed at the blindfold and kicked the bowl of food in the direction he thought Harry might be. He stood up on shaky legs, his chest heaved and his breath raspy. His nails tore off the scabs from the shower and created new scrapes, all while he groaned and screamed in frustration. Harry grabbed the cuffs and pulled Draco's hands away from his face.

"Get it off!" Draco tried to shove Harry away from him, but Harry held onto the his wrists. Harry slammed his knee into Draco's stomach and he collapsed to his knees, trying to curl himself into the ball despite Harry's hold on his hands. Dry heaves shook his body and bile rose in his throat.

"I can't take it off."

Draco whimpered and the moment Harry let go of the cuffs, he clutched his hands to the middle of his stomach. His breathing slowed with every moment, yet he felt the weight of his situation crash down on him. Harry walked away for a moment, then returned and set down a plate in front of him.

"You need to eat," he said. "I'm not allowed to give you a fork or anything."

"Allowed?" A bitter smile tugged at the corners of Draco's lips. "You're just like a dog."

"So are you." Harry pushed Draco's head down until his nose touched the food. "It's Shepards Pie. Ron wanted to poison you but I told him that he had to wait. Mrs. Weasley made it. She's been angry that you haven't eaten anything."

"Why would she care?"

"She thinks every child is too skinny. You're lucky she isn't in here to force feed you. Now eat."

Draco hesitated, prompting Harry to push him further into the food, so he opened his mouth and took a small bite. As he ate, a stone in his heart grew bigger and bigger, heavier, like his entire life was sinking to the deepest part of the ocean. He ate, noticing immediately that he had not been given water since he arrived, yet he felt no thirst. Once Harry left he stayed where he was for what he felt like was days, but he reasoned it was probably only an hour.

I think I can tell who are the wrong sort for myself, thanks.

Draco, on his knees, leaned forward and lifted his arms around his head so that the cuffs touched the back of his neck. He pressed his forehead against the ground and pounded lightly against the floor. His mouth pulled tight across his mouth, open to show his clenched teeth and allow a stifled cry from his throat.

"Draco, why are you so obsessed with the Potter boy?" His mother asked one night as they ate dinner alone. Her fork was lightly held in her hands while he twirled his around his fingers. "Stop playing with your food."

"Sorry, Mum. And I'm not obsessed with him."

"Then talk about something else. How was your school?"

"Fine. Potter – Er, I mean, Uncle Sev taught me a bunch of potions I wasn't supposed to learn till fourth year. I don't see why it had to be kept a secret. I'm brilliant."

"Of course you are dear, but you only just finished your second year. Why don't you just take the advance course -"

"No."

"Why not?" Narcissa asked as Draco stabbed the last piece of chicken with his fork and kept his eyes focused on his fork. "Draco, manners please." She put another small piece of chicken into her mouth, then took a sip of her wine before saying, "Is it because Slytherin and Gryffindor have that class together?"

"No," Draco muttered.

"And let me guess, you goof off the entire time and people think Severus favors you because you don't do much work. Draco, you can say no and shake your head all you want but Dumbledore already contacted me and Severus told your Father. If you want to be a Potions Master -"

"I don't want to be a Potions Master!" Draco stood up and ran out of the room, ignoring his Mother's protests. He went straight to his room, kicked out a house elf that was trying to clean, and jumped onto his bed and buried his face into the pillow. He reached under the bed and pulled out a Care of Magical Creatures text book and flipped it open. On the table next to him was the picture of a five year old Draco with a black and white puppy.