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How Far He Fell

It was amazing how far he had fallen in such a short amount of time. When he was an eleven year old boy starting Hogwarts, he had taken for granted that his name and money would bring him both popularity and respect, and within Slytherin it had. The snakes knew that when they left school Draco Malfoy would have a great deal of influence in the wizarding world, just look at his father. They wanted to be seen with him, to get close to him so that eventually they would be able to benefit from his birthright of power.

It was a bitter blow when Lucius was arrested after the ministry debacle. All of the children of respectable families dropped Draco so fast it could make your head spin. It wouldn't do to consort with the child of a known Death eater. Those that stuck around were just waiting to see if he could complete his mission for the Dark Lord and regain power when the war was won. Snape had suggested that he run away after they had escaped from Hogwarts and his failure, but with his unflagging arrogance he believed that he would be given another chance to prove himself worthy.

Instead he was forced to watch his beautiful mother die screaming in pain as her throat was ripped out by her own sister after hours of torture. He had the great Honor of being publicly raped by the dark lord himself. Covered in his own blood and barely able to stand, he had been paraded in front of the Death eaters in attendance and used as an example of the cost of failure.

He was now used as a reward for those that pleased his master. The only rule about his treatment was to keep him alive. It wouldn't do to let him slip away to soon. Most used him for brutal sex, a few used him to practice dark curses on, his aunt Bella had turned him into a bloody work of art that she took multiple pictures of for her later enjoyment.

The first time that he was given to Snape, Draco was sure that this would be the end of what little sanity he had left. He could not picture living through rape and or torture by the man he had looked up to for most of his life. He knew that death would be far preferable, and once Snape had taken him to his home at Spinner's End that is what he begged the man for.

"There is still hope, Draco." The man sounded sad and tired. When he received no response, he led Draco into the bathroom and helped him undress and bathe. Draco was stunned as the man gave him healing and calming potions while he gently cleaned the blood and other filth from his broken body. Numbly Draco allowed Snape to dry and clothe him before leading him to the kitchen for soup and bread. It was all his body could handle after the weeks of little to no food. Once he had eaten all that he could, Snape put his hand on Draco's shoulder and squeezed gently.

"Draco, I am so sorry that it has come to this. I promise that I will not hurt you, but although I am a master Occlumens, I must have some legitimate memories to show that I am making 'use' of you." The man grimaced as he spoke the last. When Draco remained silent, potions master sighed. He took Draco's hand and led him to his sparse but serviceable bed and laid him in the middle of it.

Draco closed his eyes as Snape slowly undressed him, kissing and nibbling on his exposed skin. He shuddered as he felt the hands and mouth caressing him. He felt Snape leave the bed for a minute and didn't dare to breath as he heard the removal of the other man's robes. When he felt the body cover his own and lay between his thighs, he couldn't stop the tears that formed at the physical evidence that Snape really didn't want to do this. Snape's flaccid penis rubbed against Draco's balls as he convincingly mimicked the movements of an intense sexual encounter. Snape ran a gently hand down his face, whispering endearments as he wiped away the tears that were running down his face. His movements became jerky and seemingly uncontrolled as he uttered Draco's name.

Snape stood up abruptly and dressed himself and Draco, before he pulled the boy into a gentle hug. "You have to hold on. You are a large part of why I am still playing this game, you can't give up."

Draco couldn't understand what he was being told. "What game?" He asked in a gravelly thin voice.

He heard Snape cast a spell on him and blanched slightly at the odd feeling in his head. He thought he had been obliviated, but he could still remember what Snape had just said.

"That little spell will prevent anything I say now from being seen in your mind." Snape explained. "Potter, will kill The Dark Lord." He seemed to be waiting for a response, but none was forthcoming. Frowning a little Snape tightened his hold on Draco's shoulders. "He will win, because he is everything that he was born to be. He has had a difficult life, but it hasn't stopped him from showing compassion and love. He has been treated poorly by the whims of the wizarding public and government, but it hasn't stopped his need to save people. He will win because he hasn't even been trained to touch even a small portion of the power within him, and he has still come out on top many times." Looking closely at the boy he was holding he once again let out a sigh. "You were supposed to run to Potter if you failed to kill Dumbledore. Potter was up there that night, under his father's cloak stunned by Dumbledore so that he couldn't interfere. He was meant to see that you didn't want to kill."

Draco felt a trickle of anger at the way he and the golden boy had been used and manipulated, but it was faint and felt as distant as his former arrogance and self importance. None of this made much sense, but as it also didn't change his circumstances, he wasn't sure that it mattered. He wondered why Snape was telling him this, it wasn't like it mattered what he believed. He would still be a thing to be used by Death eaters, and he would still die when they got bored. What did he care that Potter had the power to win this war, by the time the idiot realized that he could kill the cause of so many people's pain, Draco would either be dead or an empty shell.


He was with Bella when he felt the magic. It was like nothing that he had ever experienced before. He felt a brief shocking pain in the dark mark before all sensation left and he passed into blessed oblivion. When he came to Bella was gone. He found that he really didn't care. If he died here, at least he would die alone. It had been so long since he was allowed the luxury of time without pain and humiliation. He was still bleeding from Bella's knife and strapped to the table, but he felt the pain only dimly and didn't bother to try and free himself. He allowed himself to pass into unconsciousness.

He had no idea how much time had passed when the hallucinations started. He saw his dead mother knitting in the corner. He thought to talk to her, but he knew that he didn't have the right. It had been his fault that she was killed, and she looked so peaceful sitting in the chair that Bella had abandoned. He watched her create something that looked a bit like a sock, and said nothing.

He felt gentle hands removing his bindings and wondered if his mother had decided to forgive him and take him home. It was a pleasant thought and he smiled. He didn't open his eyes when he felt himself lifted into strong arms. He heard a male voice telling him it would be okay. He thought that he should recognize who that voice belonged to, but like so much else, it didn't seem very important.


Draco would have sworn that he was in a bed, complete with pillows and blankets. He was dressed in loose clothes. He opened his eyes and stared almost vacantly at the woman in white who stood next to him.

"Good Morning Mr. Malfoy." When she received no response, she simply went on. "We have been feeding you nutrient potions, but now that you are awake you can have real food. There are also some people waiting to see you, but that can wait until you feel a bit stronger if you like." She bustled about setting a few potions on the little table by his bed and called an elf to get him a light meal. She prompted him to open his mouth so she could give him the potions and he complied. She sat him up in the bed and handed him the soup that the elf brought and told him to eat. He stared at the bowl, but made no move to feed himself until she sighed and brought the spoon to his lips and he swallowed the almost tasteless broth.


"He is awake, but totally unresponsive. Perhaps you can get through to him."

"I will do what I can."

He recognized Snape's voice, but couldn't bring himself to care. He knew that man wouldn't hurt him, and he didn't really want to be naked again, but he also knew that it didn't matter what he wanted.

"Draco?" A cool hand brushed his hair off of his forehead. "You are safe now. It is over. The Dark Lord is dead."

Draco waited to see what else the hand would do to him in silence. Snape didn't touch him again, he just sat and talked to him for awhile and then left. Draco was glad that the man didn't take away his clothes.


"I don't see the point. He doesn't respond to anyone. Do you think that you are so special that you can save him like the good little hero?"

"Hardly. Look Snape, I just want to see him. I don't know why, but... Why are you being such an arse. I won't perform any heroics, I promise."

He thought that he must be hallucinating again, although why he would dream up Potter was a mystery. It had to be a dream though, because unless he was captured, Potter wouldn't be in a death eater camp. He didn't sound distressed so he had to be a figment of his imagination. He watched as Snape finally let him into the room and he approached Draco's bed. It was a bit odd how different he looked. He looked older, taller, stronger, and strangely he wasn't wearing his glasses.

"Hey, Malfoy. You look much better, than you did when I found you. They must be taking pretty good care of you."

Had his eyes always been that green. He could almost swear that they glowed. He wondered why the thought of his school rival was so comforting. He felt safe. Such a foreign concept. He reached out a hand to see if he the man was as solid as he appeared. He heard a sharp intake of breath from across the room, but didn't bother to look. He instead reveled in the solid, calloused fingers that he was caressing. They felt very real. He was somewhat surprised when the hand he was touching moved to touch him back. Startled he looked back into those green eyes.

"It's okay, Malfoy. No one will hurt you here. It is over. I killed him. Do you understand?"

Draco heard the words and felt a glimmer of hope. Could it be true? Snape cleared his throat, and Draco sighed. It wasn't true. Snape was still here and nothing could save him. He closed his eyes and willed himself to stop wishing for things that couldn't happen. He didn't let go of the hand he was holding, and it continued to grip him back. He listened to that wonderful voice, and he still felt safe. Eventually the hand gently squeezed his own and let go. He felt the tears that fell from his eyes as the man walked away.


Snape came to visit every day. He talked but Draco didn't really listen to him. Sometimes he touched his hand or head, and Draco stopped breathing until he moved away.

"...Potter to come again?" Draco met the dark eyes of the potions master. "You do want to see him, don't you?" Draco found himself nodding.


"I am quite willing to spend time with him." That beautiful voice was back. Draco couldn't stop his smile.

"I can't imagine why he wants to see you, but he does. Do try not to be your usual self and do something stupid."

Snape sounded spiteful, but Potter almost sounded amused. "I will endeavor not to muck it up." Then he was walking toward Draco.

"Hey, Malfoy. They tell me that you are all healed up. You will be able to leave as soon as you feel up to it."

He could leave? They would let him leave? Where would he go? He looked into those green eyes and tried to ask. "Where...?" His voice was so scratchy he didn't recognize it. He couldn't finish his question.

The vision smiled sweetly at him, and handed him the glass of water from the table and helped him take a drink. "Where ever you want to go. The war is over, and you are free. Snape and I have already testified on your behalf and there will be no charges from the ministry. Snape has already been cleared by the pensieved memories that Dumbledore left. You can go anywhere that you like."

Draco was surprised to find he believed him. He might be fooling himself, but perhaps he could live in this fantasy for awhile. "With you?"

Potter looked stunned, but he responded with a nod. "Yeah. You can go with me, once you are better. If that is what you want to do."

Draco nodded. He would have to get better, so he could leave with Potter. He would be safe. He would be away. He reached out tentatively for the hand he had held before and sighed happily when it readily gripped his own. He listened to the man talk, held Potter's hand and smiled. He felt bereft when he left, but didn't cry.


He realized fairly quickly that he didn't know how to get better. He watched Snape and the lady in white carefully. He tried to do what whatever they wanted, but other then feed himself, and take care of his own hygiene they never asked him to do anything. He looked forward to Potter's visits and he seemed to come almost every day. He listened to Potter talk and waited for him to decide that he was better enough to go with him. Every time he came in, Draco hoped that today he was better, and every time Potter left alone.
The next time he came, Draco wouldn't look at him. He didn't know why they were torturing him, but he didn't want to play anymore. He felt those familiar fingers gently lift his chin. "Malfoy? What is the matter?"

He looked into concerned green eyes. "How?" He needed to ask how to get better.

"How?" Potter looked puzzled.

"Get better?"

"Oh. How do you get better?" Draco nodded relieved.

Potter looked thoughtful. "Let me ask the mediwitch. I will be right back." He got up and left the room.

He didn't worry that he wouldn't come back. He always did what he said he would. It seemed to take a long time though. When he came back he had the woman in white with him. "Mr. Malfoy, I am told you want to leave. Is that true?"

Draco smiled and nodded. The woman turned to Potter and seemed to be considering something. "You plan to take care of him? He can't be left alone."

Potter smiled at Draco. "Yes. I will take care of him. I will not let him down." When Potter left this time he took Draco with him.


It didn't take long for them to fall into a routine. Potter would cook breakfast before dragging Draco out of bed every morning. They would clean up together and then watch the telle until lunch. They always had a light simple lunch and then went for a walk. They usually went to the park near Potter's flat and if it was nice they would watch the children play or feed the ducks. If it was bad weather they would bundle up and take a brisk walk around the lake and head home to movies and hot chocolate. They made dinner together and usually ate it in front of the telly while they watched a DVD. Sometimes Snape would visit, and Draco thought it was funny to hear Potter mumble about greasy old gits.
Potter talked to him a lot. He told him to call him Harry, and he started to call him Draco. When he asked questions Draco tried to answer. It was getting easier. He remembered everything that had happened to him, and he remembered how things had been before, but it didn't seem as important now. He was more interested in what movie they would watch or what Harry would say next. Harry's friends came by sometimes. He wouldn't talk to them but he liked to listen to their cheerful banter.
He found it easier to talk to Harry now. They never talked about the time that he spent with the Death Eaters. They didn't talk about why Harry didn't leave Draco alone in the flat. They didn't discuss the fact that he still wouldn't talk to anyone else. They didn't talk about Draco leaving either.

He had a lot of nightmares. He knew Harry did too. He would crawl into Harry's bed sometimes after a bad one, and he was always grateful that Harry would open his arms and hold him til he fell back to sleep. He soon was sleeping there every night, and he was glad that Harry didn't say anything about it. He had fewer nightmares.


He was able to talk to Snape now. It was still hard, but it clearly made the man happy so he did it. It made Harry happy too, so it was worth it.
Harry was taking him to more places. They went out to dinner sometimes. They went to movies with Harry's friends and sometimes without them. They went to visit Snape too. He liked helping him with his potions, and laughed at Harry's pathetic attempts to join in. He enjoyed the stupid arguments the two men would have, and he secretly thought that they exaggerated there dislike for each other just to amuse him. He liked that they did that.
Harry left him alone in the flat while he went to the store. Draco didn't mind. He read a muggle novel until he got back, and then helped him make dinner. They were having a party to celebrate the third anniversary of the end of the war. They had one every year. They would drink with their friends and talk fondly about the people that didn't make it through the war.
They could talk about just about anything now. They didn't talk about Draco leaving though. He wondered sometimes why Harry let him stay. He was as well as he was going to get and he would have been able to take care of himself. He certainly wasn't going to bring it up. He didn't want to leave. He loved Harry, and their little flat, and their life. He wanted to be held in Harry's arms at night. In all truth, he wanted more than that, but he couldn't ask and Harry didn't. He liked to watch him sleep. He never got tired of looking at him. He loved his messy hair that was so amazingly soft, his incredible green eyes that were only hidden behind glasses when he didn't feel like bothering with his contacts. He loved talking to him about the movie they just watched, or the book he was reading, or anything else that came to mind.
He made dinner while he waited for Harry to come home from work. He missed him, but he knew that Harry was a great teacher. He was just glad that he flooed home instead of staying at Hogwarts. Draco spent a lot of time with Snape at his lab. He helped the man make his potions that he sold at the apothecary. He didn't except any money, he had more than enough galleons to last several lifetimes, and he didn't plan on having an heir. He didn't want anyone but Harry. He didn't ask why Harry didn't date, he liked to think that it was for the same reason, but he was afraid to find out he was wrong. He grinned when he heard the floo and went to great the man he loved.
"Why don't you just tell him what you want. He is a Gryffindor. He certainly won't figure it out on his own." Snape bit out, obviously irritated by Draco's constant whining about Harry.

"What if he doesn't want me? What if it ruins everything and he makes me leave?"

Snape almost choked on his tea and then gave a short chuckle. "Draco, the man has kept you with him for six years, he has in that time never gone out with anyone but you, and even a blind man could see how much he adores you. He will never act on his feelings because he is a noble idiot who thinks he would be taking advantage of you, but there is no doubt that he loves you. If you want him, he is yours for the taking, but you will have to initiate it."


He felt Harry's erection against his thigh. It happened a lot, but he had always ignored it. Taking a deep breath he decided to take Snape's advise. He gently moved Harry's arm so that he could roll over. He gently ran his hands over Harry's solid chest. Harry moaned in his sleep and whispered Draco's name. Elation was the only word that could describe what Draco felt. He woke the man by gently shaking him. "Harry?"

"Draco? Are you okay?" The hero acted like he always did when awoken in the middle of the night. He pulled Draco close and petted his hair.

"Harry, I want you."

"I am right here. I won't leave you." There was obvious confusion in the statement. They hadn't had to deal with Draco's fear of being returned to the Death Eater's for some time.

Draco shook his head and sighed, he had no clue how to get through to the wonderful man holding him tightly. It occurred to him that he needed to simply show him what he wanted, but he was still afraid of rejection. He silently contemplated the last six years of his life, and suddenly knew. Harry wouldn't reject him. He knew that with as much certainty as was possible in this world.

He carefully placed his hand over Harry's flagging erection and rubbed it gently. "Harry, I want you. I love you."

There was a sharp intake of breath, and then a very awake Harry Potter sat up and took hold of Draco's wondering hand. "Draco, you have me. In every way that matters, I am yours. You do not have to..."

Draco shook of the hold on his wrist. "Harry, please. It isn't something I think that I should do, it is something that I want. I have not been able to express myself because of fear. I was afraid you would reject me." Draco held his breath for a moment.

"No! I would never reject you. I love you!"

"Good! So make love to me." Draco returned his hand to Harry's erection and pushed himself closer. He delighted in the moans that he could produce. Feeling bolder, he shoved Harry onto his back and grabbed his wand from the dresser and cast a cleaning and lubricating spell on himself. He didn't waste any time impaling himself onto Harry's waiting cock. This was so far separated from his past experiences. He didn't feel used, he felt overwhelmed by the reactions that he was eliciting from that man below him. He felt powerful, beautiful, and so complete.

Harry took hold of his own arousal and he lost himself completely. Nothing had ever felt better than his release and the loud groan that Harry let loose when he also reached orgasm.


They had another party to celebrate the end of the war. Harry was in the corner with Severus, discussing the latest improvement in the wolfsbain potion, Ron and Hermione were trying to control their youngest while everyone toasted to those that didn't make it. Draco smiled and downed his champagne with gusto. He had fallen so far, only to find that there was no height that he couldn't reach.

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