Chapter 3

                                        

                                              
Chapter 3
                              
Malfoy's feet were lighter than the others, Harry realized as he came down the steps. He was curled up, again, tucked up in the corner against the wall and bars to the next cell. It somehow felt safer. Blood and semen were still trickling out of his ass. Fenrir was as rough as he had ever been. Harry tried not to fight, but that just seemed to irritate the wolf more. He wanted him to struggle.
                              
Harry couldn't stop the shaking when his cell door creaked opened, even knowing that it was Malfoy coming in. He took short breaths, having never really trusted that Malfoy would help him, or rather, not hurt him. But he sighed, contently, as the red silk blanket covered him and the floor became a soft, plush mattress. Malfoy then cast some healing and cleaning charms that made him feel a lot better.
                              
"Potter?" he called.
                              
Harry had calmed down enough and said, "Y-Yeah?"
                              
"Are you okay?" Malfoy asked, gentler than Harry had ever heard,
                              
"Not r-really."
                              
"Anything still hurting?"
                              
"Just... sore."
                              
"You want some Healing Potion?"
                              
"No."
                              
"Do... do you want to talk about it?" Malfoy whispered.
                              
"No."
                              
After a few minutes, Malfoy sat next to him, and he couldn't keep from shaking. Malfoy's pale fingers gently touched his temple and pushed his long bangs out of his eyes. It was strangely more intimate than Malfoy coming into his cell when he was naked. He lowered his eyes, ashamed.
                              
"It's okay, Harry. Please, calm down. I'm here to help you," he urged, and Harry's eyes looked at him and then back down. Malfoy called him Harry, again. "Sleep... I'll stay here. I won't let anyone hurt you."
                              
Slowly, he obeyed, mostly out of exhaustion, but also because he felt safer than he ever had in the basement. He hadn't slept that much in a long time. Even his dreams were calmer, for the first time in months. He saw his friends and family, and he was whole. But when he opened his eyes, he knew that he would never be, again. He heard faint voices above him and shivered.
                              
Malfoy's quiet voice broke the silence. "They're getting up for breakfast. We have a little while longer, Harry. They don't come down this early, and I won't be missed."
                              
Harry still tightened at the thought of them coming down, but realized Malfoy had stayed the whole night... on guard. It struck him how dutiful that was. Malfoy could have just healed him and said goodbye. He could have just left him to suffer alone. Harry had slept months without a blanket, mattress or comfort, and he couldn't deny how much it meant to him. It was simple compassion... something he had forgotten existed... and he just started crying.
                              
"Harry! Calm down... please..." Malfoy said and lightly placed his hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry."
                              
It took several minutes of Malfoy reassurances, but he slowly stopped the tears. "T-Thank you," Harry whispered. For the words, for the companionship, for the pure humanity.
                              
Malfoy seemed a little emotional, too. "It was nothing. But Harry..." he breathed, "...do you think we can talk, again?"
                              
Harry looked up at him and nodded. He didn't really want to, but he longed had figured out that he had no control over anything in his life anymore.
                              
"So... well... I... do have to keep up appearances, so if someone were to come down here..." he started and Harry trembled. "Sorry... but I'll have to Vanish the blankets and stuff... and spell some bruises and blood on you."
                              
Harry just nodded and looked ahead at the wall.
                              
Malfoy lowered his voice. "But umm... just to keep our secret safe... could you... umm... be afraid? I mean, of me?"
                              
"I'm... s-sure I'll b-be more w-worried about who is coming down," he said, honestly.
                              
"True. But I'm good at acting, so I will... try to leave without... doing anything. I'll have to leave you... with them."
                              
Harry nodded, again, tears coming out of his eyes.
                              
"I don't want to," Malfoy declared.
                              
"I know," he responded automatically. He had no idea why Malfoy was there.
                              
"But if I have to prove I'm torturing you... I won't use Crucio. There's another spell Electrio. It will make you spasm and feel weird, but it won't hurt as much... you just have to scream, Harry."
                              
He blinked, surprised, and looked up into his grey eyes. He was serious. "You don't need to do that. One more won't make a difference," he muttered.
                              
"It makes a difference to me, and I won't... rape... you either."
                              
Harry tightened up. "You m-might not have a choice, Malfoy. You're a survivor. You will do w-what you have to... to survive," Harry spat, burying his face in blankets, but already was imagining Malfoy's lithe body pressing against him. His stomach felt lighter.
                              
"No, I won't. What I do is to make sure that you survive, Harry. As soon as I figure out how to save you... I will, even if I die in the effort."
                              
Harry met his eyes, again, in surprise. Why did Malfoy care so much? "Why? You hate me." He wasn't satisfied with Malfoy's answer yesterday.
                              
"Why did you save me?"
                              
Harry's eyes narrowed.
                              
Draco leaned in a little. "I tried to capture you... my friends tried to kill you. You came back for me, risking your life."
                              
"I'm a Gryffindor. I don't leave people behind to die," he muttered, looking away. All he could remember was the panic that he felt when he heard the scream from the wall of flames.
                              
"Weasley and Granger weren't interested in saving me," Malfoy stated, staring, intently.
                              
Harry blushed. "I have a hero complex, remember? I sacrificed myself to Vol-the Dark Lord... for them."
                              
"Yeah... to save them. But you saved me. Me! Of all people! Why?"
                              
"I don't know. I don't like anyone to suffer. Besides, you didn't identify me when we got caught by Fenrir," Harry said, looking at him, again.
                              
"I didn't want to be wrong. I didn't want to see you get killed. I didn't save you, exactly."
                              
"Yeah? If you would have identified me, she would have summoned... him... immediately."
                              
"Maybe," Draco said. "Maybe she would have seen the sword and everything would have proceeded the same. But it doesn't matter. Either you were drawn to me or you were being a noble self-sacrificing git, but it doesn't matter. You risked your life to save me. The bond has been made."
                              
"Bond?"
                              
Malfoy's voice was steady and purposeful. "The debt, Potter... the life debt. I owe you, and I am bound to you until I save you."
                              
Harry's mouth dropped, thinking of Pettigrew and his eyes as he died. "That's not real."
                              
"It is. I've tried to ignore it, but I have to help you."
                              
"Malfoy... there is no such thing. You're just... feeling guilty and compassionate because I helped you. You're not like them. I was there at the Tower. You didn't kill Dumbledore. You have a... good heart."
                              
Malfoy shook his head. "No, I don't. I'm an asshole. It's the life debt that I owe you. Once it's paid, then I can... be back to normal."
                              
Harry gave him an incredulous look, but he believed him. He understood it and, almost immediately, he felt safe. He pressed more against Malfoy's leg, and Malfoy smiled and rubbed his shoulder. Life debt or not, Harry trusted him, more than he ever. More than he ever trusted anyone. Of course, Malfoy was his last and only hope. If he failed him, then Harry knew he wasn't going to survive.
                              
Malfoy's grip tightened and he vowed, forcibly, "I will save you, Harry. I will get you outta here. I promise you."