Disclaimer: The characters are J.K.Rowlings and the story is mine.

Summary: What would happen if Harry was suddenly to lose his memory and becomes fixated on Draco? Can Draco forgive him? Can they become friends…or more? Slash – don't like don't read

The True Disgrace of a Malfoy

Prologue

My father loves to discipline me. Of course, he pretends he doesn't – pretends that every punishment is for my own good so "you grow up and become a true Malfoy." When he starved me for a week when I was five for getting some dirt on my trousers, it was for my own sake. When he beat me within an inch of my life when I was seven for not greeting the Minister politely enough, it was for my own sake. When he raped me when I was nine for asking about Potter, or "not knowing my goddamn place", it was for my own sake.

Hogwarts represented my salvation and the Boy-who-lived was my hero, after all he had escaped his parents before he was even two. They both disappointed me. Hogwarts was nothing but an anti-Slytherin extension of my painful childhood and Potter? He was nothing but a little lost boy dumped with a fate too big for him to handle.

I remember the first time I saw Potter. Too thin. Too sad. Too old for his little body. I recognized myself in his vibrant green eyes. I didn't know who he was and I didn't know how to reach out to him and let him know I felt the same way. How do you greet a brother for the first time? So I pulled my best Malfoy act hoping that he would be able to read beneath the arrogant and cold surface. Hoping that he would understand that I needed someone, someone like him. He clearly did not like my act and I respected him for that. I was determined to make the green eyed lost one mine, as a friend or as a lackey I didn't care for at the time I didn't know the difference.

When I found out that he was Potter – the Harry Potter I was furious and betrayed. How dare my prince be someone that looked even weaker than me? I offered him my hand on father's command but I was not at all surprised he returned it, in fact I was quite delighted.

From then on though it was like every less than perfect thing he did was personal. Every time he got a low mark, made a mean remark or messed up it was like he slipped one more notch in my regard. I mean, yes, he did do good in quidditage but so what? So did everybody on the national teams – it was nothing special!

And he didn't save me. Father came for me that first night at Hogwarts. He was on the school board and easily slipped into my bedroom. He needed to "punish" me for not getting Potter's friendship so he raped me. He raped me with the bed hangings open so that all my pears could see what a failure I was. My roommates never said anything, they were Slytherins after all, but we never had the easy friendship of the other dorm mates in the other houses.

And after that it was like every punishment was because of Potter. "Potter scored better than you in DADA?" Rape. "Potter won, again?" Rape. "Potter has a girlfriend and you don't?" Rape – even though he told me that I could only date girls he picked out, not to mention it wasn't his girlfriend but his date to the Yule ball and I had one of those. Father never listened.

Then Potter put father in Azkaban and a whole new Hell was thrust upon me. Father traded me to Voldermort for mother's safety. I was Voldermort's toy, his pet, his sex slave, so my mother could live in her cold manor surrounded by her hard jewels and dead furs.

Like my father Voldermort was an exhibitionist. He loved the fact that a Malfoy, a full blood, respected heir belonged to him. He would make me kneel at his feet during Deatheater meetings, wearing nothing but a collar enabled Tommy. Oh yes, his little irony that I would wear a collar with his muggle name on it. Not that any of the others realized what it meant. They didn't have to lie, trapped in that thing's disgusting arms, listening to his poisonous secrets late into the night.

Than father escaped from jail and broke into Voldermort's stronghold. He grabbed Vodermort's most important papers and ran as fast as he could for the Ministry. He left me. He left me in the house of the man who was now my worst enemy. The three days before Potter killed him, on father's information naturally, were the worst days of my life.

Then there were six months of clean up as father's name was cleared. He brought me home with him and I learnt the truth. Father might have escaped but he was insane. He didn't care that mother was in the house. He fucked me on the kitchen table. On the rug. On the cough. On the floor. In the dungeons. He called me Draco. Narcissa. Tom. He couldn't keep his hands off me yet he got the most pleasure from torturing – making me bleed, denying me food, water, the toilet. He turned me into an animal.

Then the year was done and he was a war hero a long with the Golden Trio. I was barely more than skin and bones so he sent me off to the newly opened Hogwarts. I never thought he would let me go, I thought I would die in his suffocating grasp.

But I should have known better. I should have known that he would want to return to the thick of things; his job at the minister, new mansion, new trophy wife, etc. And I did not fit into that life so he got rid of me (though sometimes he would still visit me to make sure I was being "good.") Why would he care that I was at breaking point? He knew that I would not tell anybody about his abuse, even at this point I was too proud for that.

Hogwarts was the same yet different. There was almost no Slytherins – except for the first years. Many of the Hufflepuffs had been killed too. But the Golden Trio was there – shining with triumph at the defeat of the Dark Lord.

The Mudblood had finally got what she longed for, even if she never said it and nobody else seemed to realize her dearest wish, she was popular and accepted by the whole wizarding community despite her blood. Most of the boys were in love with her and all the girls wanted to be her best friend. She of course was as kind and sickingly sweet as ever, even to me. She tried to extend the "olive branch" to me. She soon came unnerved by my glazed eyes and silence and left me alone.

The Weasle has changed for the worst. Except when he is with Granger, grinning as he gently feels the lump of their unborn child, he is cold and hard and angry. He carries the anger with him like a torch, fending off everybody except his two counterparts. He beat me up the first day at Hogwarts, he probably would have killed me if the Mudblood hadn't pulled him off. I wanted him to kill me and I still hold out hope. When the Mudblood isn't around he mocks me more cruelly than even Voldermort used to.

Potter too has changed. He is more confidant and swaggering. He practically has to beat his way through the crows that surround him at all times. He is taking to being a hero remarkably well, considering how he used to hate the fame. Now he is always bunking class to go and have his picture taken with his girlfriend at some fancy party or convention or something. Yet, like the Weasel he has also becoming crueler, pushing me hard against walls or doors when he can. Tripping me in class, muttering about me under his breath. I don't care though. I have had enough of him in my life.

The teachers, especially McGongall, watch me warily but they are too busy and too scared to talk to me. Ask me what's wrong. Maybe if just one person would ask me I could spill it all and then I could die…

a/n: I hope everybody enjoyed it! It probably will become somewhat fluffier and definetly a lot of slash in the next few chapters! PLEASE REVEIW!