Draco Malfoy, Broken

56 – Murky Water

Published: 9/11/19

Happy 9/11 for those old enough to have witnessed it.

***TRIGGER WARNING*** general depravity, threat of assault, excessive swearing and offensive terminology (sorry)

Zacharias Smith was shaking. Out of rage, out of anger, out of pain and out of shame. That fucking curse Zabini hit him with... it was brutal. Merlin, he so wanted to kill that fucker, but he didn't want to spend the rest of his life in prison. Who knows if Zabini put a trigger-curse in him, too. He didn't need anything else to go wrong. He was so tired. He couldn't sleep more than an hour without his cock waking him up. Like fucking clockwork... it ticked back to life, bringing minor irritation within ten minutes, uncomfortable pain in twenty and teeth-clenching agony in thirty.

The longest he went was two hours when McGonagall refused to let him go to the loo in the middle of class, unless he said why. Stubborn cunt of a woman was on Potter's side and the fucking Death Eater. What was worse was that the whole fucking school knew exactly what Blaise had hit him with. They laughed. Every time he went to the loo, every time he ducked out halfway through class or came in late, and every time he went to his room. Everyone laughed. He cursed a few, but most either deflected it or got him back. Harper had left him hog-tied for over an hour before Dean had come into the loo.

Smith never had been good in Defense Against the Dark Arts, even with Potter's club. He joined because he really did suck at it and that Umbridge-bitch didn't show them shit. Now, he needed his so-called friends to protect him. But Wayne and Oliver had laughed at him. Michael was too traumatized to say or do anything. Dean was sulking and the girls were distraught. Even if they weren't being such dicks, Zach was very much alone especially as Olie was blind and Wayne was crippled. Merlin, he just wanted everything to be fucking normal, again. But it won't be ever, again. No one would want to be with him, when his dick was cursed.

Fuck, he was exhausted. It didn't let him sleep at all. He even tried a Sleeping Potion... the fucking curse woke him up after a few hours, as he cried out in agonizing pain. He couldn't sleep. He was shattered most days, taking pick-me-ups that he got from a dazed-out Hufflepuff with no ambition other than to be high. But still... every fucking hour... he had to duck out to a hoot of laughter. That hallway incident with that Fawley-fucker... had been spread across the school by his friends. Assholes.

Worse was how much the curse was a bitch to... fulfill. Just because his dick was hard, did not mean he was ready, nor prepared to... come, especially when it got painful. All he could think about was the pain, which made it more difficult to concentrate on the task in hand. When he woke up, exhausted and dazed, he didn't immediately want to think of what to... wank to. It took so much longer come than it used to. His hands were sore all the time, now. He could barely write or hold a fork. He was so fucked.

Madam Pomfrey had been less than helpful. After having to go through the embarrassing procedure of showing her his... engorged... penis, she said that there was really nothing she could do. She siphoned out the blood with her wand and it wilted for only a few seconds before it perked back up. It had to be a full... ejaculation... she said. The curse seemed to be specific to that point and any long delays could possibly do permanent damage, best not to delay, she said, in a mocking tone. They were all in on it. He had no one to intercede for him. He couldn't write his father and explain... this.

His dad was already teed off about his inability to perform at school and his lack of self-confidence. He chided him on it constantly. "Be assertive. Make them not question you. Become a leader of men and you might make me proud one day," his father told him. Some advice, he grumbled internally. He hated talking to people. He hated people looking at him. He wanted to be invisible. But that's not what his father wanted for him. Leading the company or joining the Ministry as a hot-shot trailblazer. High expectations. He couldn't tell his father he'd been cursed and couldn't fix the situation himself. He was the laughingstock of the school, now. No one respected him.

To top everything off, Fawley... the little shit... was haunting his steps. He was outside of his International Relations class, tonight, leaning on the wall with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face. Olie, Dean and Wayne weren't in that class, but he saw that Nott and Greengrass had noticed Fawley as they left. Zabini would know.

"Stay the fuck away from me!" Zach growled, when the hallway cleared.

"Easy, honey... I'm just checking in on you. You seemed to enjoy our last meeting," Fawley drawled.

"I didn't enjoy it! You gave me a handjob... that was it! Now, fuck off!" Zach spat and walked away. Fawley followed next to him like they were mates. Zach glared at him.

"But you didn't object at all... strange me not being a girl," Fawley chuckled, wiggling his eyebrows.

Zach went pale and stopped. Oh, Helga. He stammered out, "I was cursed to be erect, Fawley! Don't jump to conclusions!"

"I didn't jump. I made a small step and it was right there... in my hand... like milk coming out of an udder," he purred and glanced down at Zach's tented robes. 

Zach scrambled backward. "It's the curse, asshole. That's the only reason!"

"You did ask me to... keep going, Zach. Don't pretend that you didn't."

"Shut up! Leave me alone!"

"Are you sure you want me to do that, Zachy-boy? I am quite good at... wrestling cranky badgers..." Fawley drawled, leaning toward him and winking.

He could only splutter and back away. "Just... fuck off!"

Fawley at least didn't come any closer. "Are you sure? You're looking flustered... I can relieve your tension."

"You're buddies with Blaise! I remember what you said!" he growled, finally remembered that whispered comment. Thank magic, that only he heard it.

"He asked for a favor... who was I to say no to an... opportunity?" Fawley said, loftily.

"You're in league with him... I'm not stupid."

"Maybe I am... and maybe I'm not. But even if you are right... what exactly do you have to lose, Smith? I can help you."

Zach shuddered in response and hissed, "Get-away-from-me! Or I'll give you another black eye!"

"Oh, sweetie... I let you have that one... but you try that again... and you won't like the... end... result," he purred, smiling at him suggestively.

Zach didn't say anything back. He was so unnerved by the conversation that he practically ran away. Fawley, the obnoxious, homosexual twat that he was, scared him... a lot. He was rich, arguably the richest in the school. His father was a huge business owner, overseeing all manner of goods and services, from the Wizarding Wireless Network to a monopolizing hold on dragon and unicorn potion ingredients. He also owned the company that made Firebolts and Nimbuses. Plus, Fawley was a smart, cocky shit, too. He well-deserved his spot in Ravenclaw.

There was no out-dueling him and maybe no out-running him, either. Zach had no protection and no one to back him up, if he tried anything. He was shaking by the time he got back to his dorm room. He slipped into the loo to complete the business his curse hourly required of him and came back out. There was a letter on his bed. A letter that he was still gripping, nearly two hours later, as he watched Longbottom drag Potter to his room. Malfoy said that he was going to bed and also went up. Smith didn't say anything. He couldn't. Zabini was right there. He did his homework and waited.

He had gone up to his room and back down twice more as the night went on and finally, Zabini and his other minions went to sleep. It was nearly time. He went up to his room. Stroked his cock a bit and then woke everyone but Seamus. They all got a letter, too, and they all were ready to answer it. They pulled on their cloaks and left out the dorm, meeting the girls in the common room. Smith was glad to see them. He glanced down at the note, one more time, to be reassured.

"Want to get revenge on the Death Eater? Want to protect our school? Bring your friends and come to Defense Against the Dark Arts at midnight. The halls are clear."

Smith confirmed it on Potter's Map as they walked, but he was intrigued by who was waiting in Defense Against the Dark Arts. It wasn't just the eighth years anymore. Dawlish appeared to be with Filch in the basement, detaining him. McGonagall in her tower. He smiled and led his party into the room. The tables had been pushed together into a large square in the middle of the room. Nearly thirty people from all four houses were there. Zach was surprised and suddenly happy. He had people to help him, he had a group. It wasn't just him, freaked-out Mike, crippled Wayne and blind Olie, anymore. They were strong, now.

"Welcome. I see you got your note and I'm glad you have the map, clever of you to steal it," said one at the end, his hood over his head. Zach didn't recognize his voice. Though he was shorter than the rest of them.

"I'm not handing it over," Zach grunted.

"No, but please check for... unwelcome guests," the kid said, politely, but still layered in command. Zach didn't like it, but did as he said. He saw the kid's name and looked back up at him, eyes wide.

"There's no one here that I don't... understand... much. Besides you."

"No names, Smith... but I'm the one who sent the note."

"But why?" He didn't understand.

"You know what I lost, Smith. You want to challenge everyone's hatred for Death Eaters or can we get on with it?"

"Sorry," he grunted.

"Have a seat then, I suspect you are the last ones to come. Everyone pick a privacy spell of your choosing and ward the room."

The walls pinging with the influx of spells, but everyone felt reassured. Zach stared at the leader of the party, quite interested in what the kid had in mind.

"Welcome... I know most of you came at my invitation to take revenge on the people who hurt us the most..." he said, angrily shaking. "Or maybe you just hate Malfoy and Potter. Maybe you have remembered that we must protect our school. The Death Eaters are still here, still cursing us. Zabini, Nott, Malfoy and Greengrass. They've brainwashed Potter and his fan club into believing he's innocent. But they're not."

"He's right!" pimply-Fay shouted. Merlin, she looked bad, but not as bad as Tracey, her glamours and make-up failing to hide her spreading scarred, cursed face.

"Yeah!" shouted a few more in support.

"But we have a problem. They are strong, protected. We have to protect ourselves. Otherwise... we'll get curses and expulsion, too. It's time to organize."

"We'll get them good! All of us!" Wayne brayed. He was an ass.

"No, not all of us, at once at least. I thank you guys, for what you've done, but we must be smarter... plan things better. Or else we'd all wind up in similar situations."

"What are you a Ravenclaw? Or a Slytherin?" Fay spat.

"He's not a Ravenclaw," Chambers said.

"He doesn't seem like a Slytherin, either," Malcolm said, as pus came out of a sore by his mouth. He covered his mouth when a few girls "ewwwed" him.

"You can guess all you want. I'm using a Voice-Changing Potion. Only Smith will know, right now, unless you'll want to sign a confidentiality contract?" he said, and Smith felt reassured by the power he had just acquired.

"Umm... no. I saw what that did to my sister, Marietta. She's still scarred," a squeaky, fifth-year Ravenclaw said, who Smith thought was Edgecombe's sister.

"Then my identity will remain hidden."

"What about the rest of us?" Parvati asked.

"Anyone speaks out against the group, will be punished by the group. You all have been warned," their new leader growled.

"And why are you going to be in charge?" he challenged. "We've been leading the fight all along."

"They'll never suspect me, Smith. They're watching you all."

"I'm fine with mystery guy... but we need a plan," Alexus growled.

"Why are the Slytherins here?" Lisa Turpin grunted and Megan Jones next to her nodded.

"Excuse me?" Tracey Davis huffed. "I've been trying to make up for what those assholes have done to my house."

"They can stay. They have insight into Slytherin House, after all."

"But we are going to hurt them, right?" Wayne said.

"Oh, yeah. We'll hurt them."

"I don't want to hurt Harry... but that Death Eater..." Vane hissed.

"Yes, but Harry is protecting him... he might be a causality."

"How soon can we start... those assholes need to pay! He took away my sight!" Olie cried.

"Soon, but we must take precautions, gather new followers, and spread our message. Evil must be punished! Hogwarts must be safe! I won't stand by while this goes on anymore!"

"Kill the Death Eaters!" a Gryffindor beater shouted.

"Kill? We aren't killing anybody... are we?" Dean asked, wide-eyed.

"No... of course not. But they all need to die. We have to get them removed from school and with any luck get their souls removed."

Dean swallowed and looked at him. Smith wasn't sure how he felt about that. "So... what are we going to do?"

"First a propaganda campaign. We are now called Students Against Death Eaters! We will post messages on the walls and secretly tell others to join the cause."

"So... we're SAD?" Smith said, hiding a smirk.

"SADE, with an E," their leader clarified, with a dramatic pause. "Then we will take our revenge. You all have been stupid to take on the Slytherins outright. It's lucky you weren't kicked out. We will hide our identity. Then, Malfoy's Death Eater pals can't curse us, if he doesn't know who we are."

"B-But Zabini knows... that we..." Mike started, indicating to the other Eighth years. "...are the ones who...."

"Don't worry. Now, we can alibi each other. We all don't need to be there at the same time. You can be in class the next few times, while the rest of us..." the kid waved his hand to the nearly fifteen younger students at the table. "...take our turn. Sure, he could take it out on you, but I don't think he will, unless you mouth off to him and that's on you all."

"I want my revenge! I don't care!" Tracey hissed.

"Me, too!" Oliver said and Wayne agreed, too. Others shouted support from around the table.

"B-But... what if he won't take these curses... off?" Mike whispered, dropping his shoulder and avoiding looking up to his right where his apparition was no doubt standing, possibly touching him. Mike's description had been pretty horrifying.

"It should wear off by next week," a Gryffindor chaser that Zach never bothered learning her name said, dismissively.

"Yeah... and one of you is enjoying the attention," Stewart Ackerley, a Ravenclaw, said, looking at Zach.

Zach glowered at the implication. It was nothing but pain. There was no pleasure in any of it. He never wanted to touch himself, again. His hands were cramping from his excessively wanking.

"Excuse me?" he growled.

"Stop it," their leader snapped. "We have other things to discuss. This is a Voice-Changing Potion It will conceal our identities when we start enacting our plans."

"Not to derail your awesome plan, Bosso. But throwing a hood over our head, isn't much of a disguise when you are dueling or beating the crap out of somebody."

"We are going to wear masks," he declared.

"Masks?" Parvati said, her mouth open in shock.

"Yes, and special cloaks, so no one can identify us. They will be green, blue, red and yellow. The colors of Hogwarts."

Everyone looked at him. Smith grunted, "Like a rainbow?"

"No... kind of. Just so no one can figure out anyone, easily by their robes, like our height, weight and skin and hair color."

"We're going to wear masks and cloaks... like the Death Eaters wore?" Padma gasped. Smith was surprised at the kid's boldness, himself.

"Perhaps, it'll be like using their own tactics against them. We lived in fear and uncertainty through the war, and now, it's the Death Eaters' turn! They won't know who attacked them. They won't know who's a friend and who's a SADE member. We can do anything we want to them because we have anonymity."

"That's..." Parvati started, still staring at him in horror.

"We aren't doing that!" Padma said, getting up.

"But we have to! For Jaqueline and Lavender!" Fay growled.

"I miss them, but this is too far. We're leaving!" Parvati declared, standing up, too.

"Go, non-supporter! And if you tell anyone about what happened, you'll be next of our list," he growled as the Patil sisters slipped through the door, when the wards went down, and left. "Anyone else care to balk?"

Two others left. Summers, a younger Hufflepuff, and a Ravenclaw that Smith didn't know.

"Now that we have weeded out the less loyal members of SADE. We need to develop our disguises. We will have to make it here, least it be traced."

"I can make the robes!" Sally Smith piped up. "I'll design them and create reproduction spells. We're starting to make clothes in Home Ec."

"I can figure out a mask spell," Alexus Runcorn said, helpfully.

Smith kept his mouth shut. Her father had been arrested for discriminating against mudbloods. He should speak out against her being in the group. But he didn't want to rock the boat. He was on thin ice as it was, respect-wise. Honestly, Smith didn't care either way about blood, but his father would have yelled at him for being a heretic. Carry on the pureblood line, he ordered. Zach had no desire to. He hated kids and responsibility. But his father had always beaten him into being "assertive" though. Get respect, one way or another. Being the class asshole, was the best he had been able to do.

"Good!" their leader said. "Get to work. Now as far as communicating... we need to find a way to coordinate and I doubt you all want to meet up every night when Dawlish is on patrol duty."

"Owls?" squeaked a younger Gryffindor.

"Not completely out of the question, but it leaves too much evidence."

Zach thought of his coin in his trunk, but he wasn't going to mention Granger's remarkable spell work. He didn't want to speak out in a group this large, anyway.

"Coded messages on the bulletin board?" Oliver suggested.

"Well, I heard that Potter used a Protean Cham when he created that underground group."

Quirke, a young Ravenclaw, said excitedly, "Keith Fawley can! He's the best in our house!"

"Fawley, huh?" Fay said and then glanced at Zach. Sue Li giggled next to her. "Why don't you ask him, Zach?"

The table broke out laughing, again. Fawley giving him a public handjob was common knowledge at this point. Zach went red.

"Fuck you, Fay! I'm not friends with Fawley!" he growled.

"Friends? How about boyfriends?" Wayne chuckled.

"What the hell, Wayne?" Zach spat. That was the problem when you acted like an asshole to make friends. Your friends are also assholes.

"You didn't say no and you liked it," Oliver, who didn't even see it, chimed in.

"I'm fucking cursed!" he hissed and withheld other remarks he had already tried to use to justify letting Fawley do that to him. He just wanted release. It irked more because his dick was already hard and there was no way that he'd leave the meeting to wank. He'd never live that down.

"Yeah... ssssuuure, Zachary," Fay said, derisively.

Zach made to tell her to go F off, but their self-appointed leader said, "Enough. Who else can?"

"Sue and I can try," Lisa offered.

"Thank you. Please tell Professor Dawlish and he will distribute them. He might be able to help you out, too."

There were agreeable murmurs around the table.

"Now... on to the good stuff... revenge. We need to start a smear campaign against the Death Eater and the Chosen Dick, any ideas?"

Interesting... Chosen Dick... Zach liked that one.

"We can write messages in the hallways and owl Malfoy hate mail!" Romilda Vane said, happily.

"Yeah... he doesn't get anything, though. He's got the headmistress blocking his mail."

"Well..." Malcolm said, leaning forward, making sure he grabbed the whole table's attention. "I have it from a reputable source... that Malfoy is gay."

Silence at the table. Zach couldn't deny that he had had some inklings that Malfoy was. His long hair and fancy clothes made him kinda suspect. Zabini was his best friend, too, and, holy Helga... Potter. Potter was with that twat all the time. Did that mean...?

"Are you sure?" their leader asked, breaking the silence at the table.

"Yes. Positive. First-hand knowledge," Malcolm said, importantly.

Everyone took him at his word. Slytherins had roomed with Malfoy after all.

"That's... disgusting," Fay sneered.

"He's a poofter? No wonder he's evil!" Wayne growled.

Zach said nothing and looked at Dean, who had gone a little pale. Zach was pretty sure that Dean and Seamus were butt buddies, but Dean hadn't been in on taunting him about what Fawley had done. Zach kept that knowledge to himself, for now. Others made more disparaging remarks about homosexuals and how unnatural they were.

"You think... what about Potter?" Oliver said finally jumping to the right conclusions.

Romilda Vane shrieked, "That's why he turned me down! He's a faggot, too!"

"We don't know that!" Dean murmured.

"He defends that bitch as much as that slut Zabini does!" Tracey growled.

"They're always going off together and sitting together in class, like girls!" Sue Li sneered.

"Alright... hold on to it... for now. We'll use it at the right time. No one leaks this, without the group's consent. We need to use it when it hurts the most. Does anyone have Prophet connections?"

Alexus Runcorn straightened up. "Yes! My mom is friends with Rita Skeeter!"

"Excellent... write to your mom, see if Rita will come out of retirement. We have evidence to gather. We need proof for an exclusive reveal."

"Proof?" a few people asked.

"Pictures... ideally. I know where I can get a camera. Is everyone agreed, not to say anything about this?" he asked.

The table nodded in assent.

"First, I'll post about our group and call others to join. The rest of you, keep an eye on Potter and Malfoy. If those dicks are fucking, I want to know and prove it. We'll take them both down!" he said, dramatically.

"Yeah!"

"SADE members... go forth and spread the word. Encourage others... protect this school and your families from the Death Eaters!"

The group got up and slowly trickled out the door, until it was just Zach and the kid, who lifted his hood. "Thank you for not revealing my name, will you keep that secret?"

"Of course, if I'm your second," Zach said, wanting desperately to be part of a group. Protection is what he was after and he didn't care that he was heading straight into murky waters.

"Yes. You've been leading the charge so far, but now...you need help. We are going to make Malfoy pay. Tomorrow, the surveillance would begin."

Zach nodded, approvingly.

***

Harry slowly woke up. His back and body warm from Draco's bulk wrapped tightly around him. He felt more rested than ever. Last week had nearly broken him and he'd just lost it. Drinking... getting stuck in the hospital wing... worrying Draco. He'd also canceled his visit to Andromeda, mainly because he couldn't leave Draco, nor was in the right mind to be around a child... his child.

"Did you sleep, well?" Draco whispered in his ear, realizing that he was awake.

"I did. Thank you," Harry said, yawning.

"Anything you want to talk about, Harry? I'm here...."

Harry swallowed and shook his head. Draco didn't need to know.

"Harry? You're tightening up, I can feel that. What's wrong? You can talk to me."

Draco was practically catatonic two nights ago. He could snap back. It was better and safer to stay silent. But Draco turned him, so they were facing each other.

"Tell me, Harry. It's okay. Everything is fine."

No... everything was not fine. Harry's heart was pounding faster as he struggled to hide how hurt he was. He didn't even have a bad dream... there was just the threat of one.

"Harry... look at me," Draco pleaded.

Harry looked up into his eyes and Draco brushed his hair out of the way.

"Please talk to me, Harry. Stop hiding... please...."

"I'm a little better. No nightmares... just... I'm... scared."

Draco's blond eyebrows shot up and he pulled him into a hug. "It's okay... it's okay to admit that, Harry. You don't have to pretend that you are unbreakable to me. I'm not flawless... I get scared, too."

Harry shook, tears coming out, "I slept great. I missed you... so much. But I'm still weak... not just physically... but spiritually. That... d-dementor... it hurt me so deep that I can still feel it no matter how happy I am. It scared me in a different way. Those things were always my greatest fear... now it's terrifying."

Draco ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm so sorry, Harry. It scares the shit out of me, too. It's been feeding on me all summer... like it was the dementor's mission to kill me as slowly as possible."

"I didn't even try," Harry confessed, lowering his eyes. "I wasn't trying to... give up... but I didn't fight back."

Draco stared at him and he whispered, "You weren't trying to...."

Harry straightened up and looked at him. "No! I didn't mean for it to happen... I just couldn't... I didn't try. I didn't think I could summon one, and I was pretty drunk. I was already on the ground when it found me. I'm sorry... I don't want you to think that I gave up on you... I'd never do that."

Draco's eyes filled with tears. "I believe you and I'm glad you told me. We're going to get through this."

"But I disappointed you," Harry cried, shaking, again.

"Really? You really think that?" Draco said, shaking him. "You... prat. Disappointed is the last thing I'm feeling, unless you mean I'm disappointing. I was supposed to talk to you... we're supposed to lean on each other, and I turned you away!"

"You had to heal. This isn't your fault."

Draco sighed. "It's not about fault. It's about partnership. We need to start acting like we're in this together... not fight at it alone. We both suck at it."

Harry reluctantly smiled. "Do you think that we can... figure this out?"

"We can try... but there's going to be... difficulties. But I'm not stupid enough to think that I can figure this out on my own," Draco murmured. "I'm not always going to be able to talk everything either."

Harry agreed. "It's hard to get out.

Draco nodded and through the curtains, Blaise got up and went into the loo. Draco took off the wards on the curtains.

"How much longer should we let them sleep?" Daphne said, pulling out a shirt from Theo's wardrobe.

"We're awake," Draco grunted.

"Oh... good. Potter needs to go to the infirmary. We're going down to the common room," Daphne announced, after slipped his shirt on and dragged Theo out as he was trying to sort out his bag.

"Fuck," Harry grumbled and rolled to end, throwing his legs over, and sat up.

Draco crawled over behind him and put his knees against his back. "I'll go with you."

"No... you can't. You have to get your own breakfast and she has to watch me eat mine, because I'm five."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry... you didn't do this."

But Draco did answer back. He rolled off the bed and stood up in front of him. He kissed him and Harry didn't hesitate to kiss him back. When he let go, he said, "I know what it's like Harry... not to eat, to not want to eat, to be starved. Don't ever stop eating, again... not for me, please."

"I promise," Harry said, and he had to now... he didn't want to break his promise. Not to Draco.

Draco went over to his dresser and pulled out a nice shirt and some slacks, as well as a fresh, crisp robe. Draco... even with bed hair, looked amazing. But with a few spells, his hair was straight and untangled and his body smelled clean. He slowly pulled his shirt on, winking at Harry, who smiled. Draco... a few more pounds and his body would be perfect. He had hated the look of skin and bones, like when Draco first got out of Azkaban. The feel of muscle and tissue... something he could hold without breaking. He liked a little meat on his bones.

But as he watched Draco getting dressed in front of him, transforming him into a presentable, good-looking guy, he couldn't help feel a little... undeserving. Harry was the definition of sloppy. His hair, his clothes, his friends, his family and his problems. There was nothing neat and proper about him, other than Draco. Harry was the orphan kid. Dudley and his friends used to pick on him for that and for dressing like one. He never was respectable... never in the "in" crowd, even after he saved everyone. Skinny, scrawny, bespectacled, and messy. His looks, hair and clothes were too low brow for Draco, the perfect sex god.

Draco glanced at him as though sensing his negative thoughts and came over. Draco stood over him, as he still was on the bed. "You're perfect, Harry."

"Yeah... just an angry, alcoholic, self-sacrificing mental case with an eating disorder."

"Harry...that doesn't tell the whole 온라인카지노게임. You are a proud, kind-hearted man, who puts everyone before himself. You are smart, loyal and righteous... in a good way," Draco said, before kissing his head. "And you're beautiful. You smell amazing, and I love your hair... and your eyes."

Harry had no idea how Draco knew that he was feeling that about himself. But he didn't believe him. Draco cupped his face and kissed him on the lips. Harry snogged him back desperately, and almost without breaking the connection, Draco had already lifted his clean shirt off his head. Harry's hands stopped a centimeter away from Draco's chest. Draco moved into his hand and yanked Harry up to his feet. He didn't resist at all and pressed his chest into Draco's, kissing him harder. He wanted to do it, again, but he opened his eyes and jumped backward in shock as Draco looked at him, worried. Fuck.

"Oh, don't mind me," Blaise said, from the bathroom door.

"Crap..." Draco said, and picked his shirt off the floor.

"Forgot about me, huh?" Blaise drawled.

"Just... go...." Draco said, going red, as he slipped his shirt back on.

"Why? I'm not good company for a rockstar...?"

"Shut up, Blaise!" Harry growled, irritated.

"Temper, temper. Don't be cranky. Do you want me to hide in the loo, while you finish?" he asked, with a deviant smile.

"No, I got to get to the infirmary, maybe later," Harry muttered with a smile.

"Yeah... unfortunately. Dawlish's going to be an asshole."

"Goodie," Harry said, but touched Draco's face. "It's going to be okay, Dray-co. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. Just get through his class... Neville, me or the others will be there. Okay?"

"Thanks, Harry. I wish that we didn't have to plan this... wait, how is Madam Sprout okay with you leaving early, every class?"

"She knows and I get my notes from Hermione, which are amazing... and color-coded."

"I always wondered how you passed your classes," Blaise chuckled.

"Gah... fine. I'm going," Harry grunted and kissed Draco fleetingly on the lips.

He raised the wards and slipped down into his own room without being noticed. Luckily, he heard Ron's voice in the common room. Harry took the wards of his bed that made it seem like he was there. He checked the mirror for once, glamouring the hickies away. He put the other ones back on, too. He'll give it a week or so and leave them off. Harry grimaced at his slightly better reflection, took a deep breath and headed out the door.

Hermione was waiting for him in the common room, looking anxious. Ron, unfortunately, was next to her. Fuck, he was going to have to talk to him. He didn't look at Ron. Were they friends at one point? He can barely remember that feeling of camaraderie. Taking on trolls, spiders, Umbridge, Snape, horcruxes and homework. Ron had even rescued him from starvation in his second year... and he was there yesterday. Does he want to make amends? Harry wasn't going to say anything. He wasn't the one with an issue... well, an issue between them.

"How are you, Harry?" Hermione asked concerned.

"Don't treat me like a sick child, please," Harry groaned.

"No! I'm sorry... I didn't mean... I'm just worried... is all," she said, and didn't have to glare at Ron for him to speak.

"Me, too," he grunted.

Harry didn't want to look at him. This was the problem when people know there's something wrong with you. They treat you like there's something wrong with you. He wasn't sick, injured or dying. He didn't need to feel so... frail and requiring anyone's assistance. Everyone was looking at him like that, now. He didn't need or want help. He slipped... and lost control for one second and he was now stuck in this situation.

"I need to go eat," Harry said, gruffly.

"Oh, I'll come with you!" Hermione said.

"I don't need...."

"Harry..." Hermione began, and he knew it was pointless to argue. He turned and walked to the door. They both followed her out and down the steps. "It's well... Professor McGonagall said that you shouldn't be alone."

"I drank alcohol! I didn't...."

"I know... but you weren't eating, Harry, and we should have noticed."

Harry's head jerked up. "You're here because you're feeling guilty?"

"No!" Hermione said, horrified.

Harry meant it more for Ron, but Hermione felt that one, too. He stopped. It was a lot of emotions to deal within a short period of time.

"I'm fine, now."

"No, you aren't! Harry... I'm worried about you. We almost lost you... I can't... let that happen. I'm sorry, I should've noticed you were hurting so much."

"I'm not hurting."

Hermione looked at him and nodded, conceding the battle. But she figured it that was better that he wasn't going to yell at her anymore. Harry glanced at Ron. Fuck, he just needed a way out of the murky, uncharted waters between them. But what could he say? What could Ron do to make it right? Harry was slowly accepting that it was never going to happen. Ron had hurt him too much. One month, it hurt. Three was unbearable and now, the silence was well into the fifth month. That was a pain that time wouldn't forget. When was the point where Hermione would leave him, too? They couldn't be friends... if Ron hated him or felt nothing but anger and spitefulness.

Harry felt weary... too tired to even fight it anymore. His anger had slowly fizzled out. His passion for their friendship was gone. He could barely be in the same room together with him and not feel completely... smashed. It wasn't anger, sadness, pain, guilt or regret he felt, now. It was loss... and the acceptance of that. It was gone: their friendship, Ron's adoption of him, that sense of family. There was nothing that remained, but that they were classmates, who used to be friends. He turned away from them and started walking.

"Harry, please let us help you."

"I don't need he..." Harry stopped and realized he did need help. He turned back to her. "Did you ever read that dementor book I gave you?"

Hermione paled. "Yes, but I... everything got sidetracked, with Blaise and all my classes, then Draco and you. I planned to look up more information, but Harry... d-do you think that the dementor is stalking Draco like the dementor in the book?"

"Yes... I know it," Harry said, his heart thumping faster automatically, now that they were talking about it. "Hermione... I felt it. It was enjoying it... my pain and panic. It was... so different... so personal. Something's wrong with it. It knew that I was...."

Hermione frowned. "I'm not doubting what you felt, Harry, but you were alone, weak and convenient."

"No... it..." Harry started, but he couldn't talk about it, again. "Nevermind. Just trust me, okay? It's not normal."

"I trust you. I will go to the library and see what I can dig up," she said. Harry knew that she was a natural researcher. "But let's get you to Madam Pomfrey."

Harry nodded and walked next to her. He brooded on the dementor as he walked. How malevolent it felt, how ruthless and merciless it was and how close it really came. He zoned out, not entirely keeping a grip on what was happening. He really didn't know. He felt cold. He could almost smell the decaying scent of its clammy, boney skin. Death incarnate. It wasn't alive, but it moved. His arm burned where it had grabbed him, though there was no mark.

"Harry?" Madam Pomfrey said, loudly.

He snapped out of it and realized that he was in the infirmary, sitting on a bed, and having no recollection of how he got there. Hermione and Ron were staring at him, concerned. He assumed that they didn't use a Memory Charm on him, so he must have blanked out.

"What?" he said, having no clue what happened.

"We've been trying to get you to answer for a minute, are you okay?" the matron asked.

"I was thinking..." he said, as he couldn't really say anything else.

She pursed her lips and didn't push him. Just gave him a line of potions including the small mouth-size serving of the Mood-Lifter. He grimaced at it and the matron stared at him expectantly. He needed to get stronger for Draco. He took all of them and then she presented him with a large plate of food.

"Come on, I'm not going to eat all that!" he grumbled.

"I expect that some things you won't like or eat, but I want most of that plate cleared, Harry." She sat down, intent on watching him eat.

His anger rose out of the grim and he growled, "This is ridiculous! I'll bloody eat my meals. You don't have to watch me."

"Harry... I have...."

"I am an adult. Stop treating me like I'm a first-year!"

"You were the one...."

"I do not care what happened. I can make my own health decisions."

"This is still a school, Harry. We are, in some ways, responsible for you."

"Really? Responsible enough that you sent me into the Forbidden Forest for detention? That you all forced me to play in the Triwizard Tournament? Be berated, tortured and nearly killed by multiple professors? And now you're saying that you have a responsibility for me? No. I became responsible for me the moment I step foot in this school."

Madam Pomfrey straightened up to look at him. "I couldn't stop those things. But I can make sure you take care of you. I care about you... and your friends. I don't want to lose you."

"This isn't the way to go about that," Harry said and looked at her, sternly.

She let out a deep breath. "No, it isn't. I'll concede that much. What assurances will you give me that you will eat all your meals... properly?"

"Hermione," Harry said, nodding to his best friend.

The matron looked at her and nodded. "I suppose I'll leave him in your hands, young lady."

"I will watch out for him, that I can promise you," Hermione said, with some power in her voice. She would almost be worse than Madam Pomfrey. It just wouldn't be as humiliating.

"Eat here, one last time, but come after lunch. I expect you here for your potions, though."

Harry nodded and she scampered off to her office. He slowly at his breakfast, though not finishing as much as Madam Pomfrey or Hermione wanted. She took his hand when they went down to class and he was glad for the contact. He didn't want to get lost in his head, again.

***

Blaise was a right twat after Harry left. Draco nearly went red when Blaise asked him about his shirt and made a few sexual quips that he did not entirely understand. He ignored him though and finished getting dressed. They picked up Theo and Daphne in the common room and grabbed breakfast before class. Harry was looking a little exhausted when Transfiguration started. He glanced back at him a few times. Draco smiled back as much as he could, but Ron was sitting next to Harry. He wondered if they were talking, again. He wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing.

The headmistress had been most eager to see him practice some spells for her and offered a few bits of advice on how to improve his vanishing attempts. He thanked her for that. Harry struggled as Transfiguration relied heavily on frame of mind. His heart wasn't in it, as he never said a word to Ron. Professor McGonagall went easy on him, though. Just said to try harder next time. But wasn't pleased that he hadn't started his homework, even if he was in the hospital on Sunday.

Draco walked to Herbology with Terry, who asked about how Harry was doing and what was wrong. He hadn't seen Harry without his glamours on. Draco gave the excuse that the dementor had attacked him. Terry seemed surprised that the dementor hadn't been captured and that he hadn't even known that there was one loose. There had been nothing in the press or town gossip mill that suggested that there was one nearby. Terry even sat with him in class. Sue Li had been fairly offended by that and glared at him the whole time. Terry helped him pry loose shivpod from the plant they had and they managed to get mud all over them. He scourgified most of it off.

Harry was waiting for him outside for once. Terry stayed only until their classmates left and disappeared, too. Were they really being that obvious to people? Draco wondered.

"Dawlish threw me out. I'll call it a win," Harry said, with some false enthusiasm.

"He did?"

"Yeah, I might have called him a few well-chosen insults. So, I get detention every night after dinner for the rest of the week."

"I'm sorry."

"Nah, it felt good. He looks like a pile of owl droppings. He wouldn't say what happened to him though, sodding prick."

"I'm sure it'll be awesome this afternoon," Draco murmured.

"Hey... it'll be fine. Once class is over, you'll be free and I'll be there, okay?"

Draco nodded and Harry hugged him. He needed that and they separated long enough to stare at each other for a minute.

"You got some mud on your neck," Harry pointed out.

"Oh, I must have missed it. Terry helped me with a shivpod."

"Something to look forward to after lunch," Harry laughed.

"We'd better get going. Blaise might think you pulled me into a broomstick closet to make out."

"Don't give me any ideas, Ferret," Harry said, jovially, but grimaced after, for a reason he didn't explain. Draco hated that it was so murky between them now. Harry was just treading water, and small things seem to affect him even more than before, always threatening to pull him under.

As they walked into the Great Hall, Draco surveilled the damage of Blaise's latest curse-a-thon. Blaise was the best. Alexus had a swarm of flies around her head, Tracy was wearing a shawl, now. Fay's formerly perfect face was marked by acme, Rivers was blind, Corner just looked morosely at his plate, Hopkins was in a floating chair and Zach... Zach was looking frustrated and his hands appeared to be unusable. What'd Blaise do to him? He was almost tempted to ask Blaise... almost. Some in the group stared, but they continued down the table and sat down next to each other. Neville took the spot next to Harry and Theo, Blaise and Daphne sat on the other side.

"Don't worry. I'll be right there after class. Neville, too."

"It'll be okay," Draco muttered.

"We're probably going to be put into detention... so..." Blaise said, quietly.

"I'd give anything to get out of it," Theo grumbled, and Daphne rubbed his back.

"I'll use that spell, Theo, okay?" Blaise said, and he nodded.

Draco was tempted to ask, but he wasn't sure what Blaise meant. Better not to know, Draco thought. He didn't need Blaise to get into trouble. He tried to stop the fear from building, but it was hard. He knew what was coming. Harry lifted his head up to stare at him, like he knew that he was slipping. Harry took his hand, gripping it tightly. Draco took a deep breath and looked at him.

"Thanks," Draco murmured. Salazar, they were both so screwed up.

"Let's go... ready for the next round of torture?" Blaise asked, darkly.

"Always..." Draco drawled, and Harry frowned.

They trudged up to Defense Against the Dark Arts, leaving Harry at the entrance hall. Blaise led them in and they took their usual seats. Dawlish stormed in from his office and Draco almost laughed. He looks like a doxy beat the shit out of him. His greying hair was a mess, with bird feathers and blood smeared in it. His face looked to be covered with spider bites. There were bags under his eyes, like he hadn't slept all weekend. His eyes were deranged, red and glaring at Blaise.

"You think it's funny, don't you!" he spluttered, enraged beyond restraint.

"I don't know what you are talking about... professor. I'm just a slut and a whore, who no one believes," Blaise growled.

"What did you say!" he roared.

"No, that's what you said, after you disarmed me and told me that you could fuck me and get away with it."

Draco was surprised how many of their classmates were looking at Dawlish in disgust. No one doubted Blaise's words, not even Smith.

"Lies! That is not how it happened! You were given appropriate punishment for your behavior in class. I would never engage in such a sacrilege against nature. You're a Slytherin liar. You deserved detention and it's not my fault you have enemies."

"Really?"

"Yes, you deserve everything you got, you little shit! This is my classroom!"

"Yes... and you're in control here... but not outside of here, right, Professor? Birds and bugs have minds of their own sometimes, don't they?"

"You're the one sending those blasted birds into my room all night long!"

"Me? I was sleeping."

"And the crickets, too? You are going to pay...."

"I already paid. I have debts still to collect. There might be some... turbulent water in your future."

"Is that a threat?" he spat.

"I don't know... it seemed a little murky, didn't it?" Blaise chuckled and a few others did with him.

Dawlish turned to Draco. "Death Eater! I order you to...."

But he didn't finish as the whole class started laughing. Draco had to keep from doing it. Dawlish's clothes faded away. He was left wearing nothing but his tighty-whities and his shoes.

He yelped and scrambled to his office, telling everyone to stay there. He returned after throwing a traveling cloak on. "You! I'm going to...."

"What? I didn't do anything?" Blaise said, holding his hands up.

Dawlish pulled out his wand and Draco froze, remembering Vance, before he felt fear for Blaise. Dawlish pointed it directly at Blaise's face, but he held back, realizing that the whole class was watching him with absolute disgust. He pocketed his wand, glaring at Blaise for a few more minutes.

"This isn't over. Class dismissed. Death Eater... you stay here for detention. The rest of you leave."

Blaise jerked his head to Draco, who grimaced. Dawlish had never given him detention before. "No... you can't...."

"I can. My classroom. I'm a professor. If you feel that I did not treat you right... I will not give you detention any longer. Leave."

No one in the classroom moved, either out of loyalty or curiosity. Blaise stood up, wand in hand. He was done with him.

Draco grabbed his hand and pleaded, "Don't, Blaise!"

"Oh, yes, attack. I'm an Auror. That's a decent prison sentence."

"Going to whine to the world that a student got the better of you?" Blaise challenged.

"I don't care what they think. You use magic on me... you're going to Azkaban. You are not a child, anymore and the headmistress won't protect you from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Now get out! Or I'll give him a week's worth."

Draco whispered, "It's okay, Blaise. Just go."

Blaise was shaking in rage. He ran his hand through Draco's hair to comfort him and left. The rest of the class followed. Daphne and Theo looked at him and he nodded to them. When the door closed, he started to shake. He didn't want to be alone with the man. Dawlish wasted no time and walked over, grabbed his shoulder hard, lifted him up and pulled him into his office. Draco was beyond scared. Dawlish's grip was so reminiscent of those things in the pit and he felt himself slipping back. But he snapped back when Dawlish pulled out his office door into the hallway.

Where is he taking me? Draco wondered. Maybe Smith and the others were going to beat him up, too? But Dawlish took him to the staff corridor, which nearly gave Draco a heart attack, considering the implications. He tried to say no, but he was too scared to even think about resisting, just like before. Dawlish lowered the wards on his door and shoved him inside to the floor. Draco's heart was beating so fast that he thought he might pass out.

"Please...."

"Shut up!" he roared, and Draco trembled, wait for the pain to start. "You will lift your friend's curses, now!"

Draco flinched, but realized that he didn't mean to physically attack him. He started to calm down.

"I know you know Curse-Breaking! You're the best in Weasley's class. So, removed them, or you will be in a lot of pain."

"But..." Draco began.

"This is an order from an Auror, scum-shit. Take off the curses! Remove the spiders, the crickets, the... rats. Stop the fucking birds from coming in and make my clothes unhexed... or I'll be walking you to your probation officer."

Draco winced and slowly got to his knees. Their spells weren't hard to counter, he knew his friends' spell work. The room slowly quieted down and Dawlish stopped aggressively huffing. Draco removed the triggers on the rest of his clothes, but couldn't get the window curse lifted.

"I'm sorry... the window is stuck open. I can't break it," he said, quietly.

"No, remove it!"

"I can't. It's been spelled open by...."

Dawlish grabbed him and pulled him to his feet, glaring at him. "Fix it or you'll regret it!"

"B-But I can't...."

Dawlish punched him in the stomach. Draco gasped in pain and Dawlish rising his fist threateningly.

"Fix it, Death Eater or else!"

"I can't, please...."

Dawlish hit him in his ribs and dropped him back down to the floor. "Fine. Clean my room... without magic." He sat down in a comfy chair while Draco picked up the dead animals and bugs by hand. Dawlish gave him a bucket and a scrub brush and mocked him as he worked. Finally, he said. "Good enough. Now, wander off to your meeting. Don't get caught, criminal."

"Yes, Sir."

When Draco left the room, he Disillusioned himself and went quickly through the school. He made it to the grounds, thankfully without running into anyone and took a deep breath. He was about to go through another round of stress and torture. He had to pull it together, though. Harry would be worried sick about him. He took in a few deep breaths, reflecting on how brutal the last visit had been. He couldn't let that happen. He focused on what Professor Weasley had told him and took off to Hogsmeade.

***

Dolores apparated to Hogsmeade in her disguise. She had plucked some hairs from a muggle shop owner not far from her rundown home to use. She had to keep up the pretenses of hiding her identity. She had enemies, and most were consolidated it that pitiful excuse of a school.

"Ma'am," Aberforth Dumbledore said, tilting his head. He wanted her name and tried many times to extract it from her.

She merely nodded and went up to the room that Mafalda reserved. She waited until the Polyjuice Potion wore off. She hated emulating a muggle, but becoming a witch might be recognizable, and that was dangerous. She refused to take a wizard's... that would be unnatural... to feel a cock between her legs.... She felt sick just thinking of it. Mixing genders and traditions were wrong, against the laws of magic. Morally deplorable, like that sinful Zabini. She prayed to Greenteeth damn him to murky, watery grave. But she had to set her sights on the bigger issue: Draco Malfoy, the traitor.

He was a defector to the Dark Lord's vision. She readily took up the call to destroy him. Mafalda gave her a mission: Make him hurt. Make him scared. Break him. She intended to do just that. Especially after learning how much he was responsible for Potter's escape and the downfall of her master. He must die for his treachery! The Dark Lord had the right view of things. Half-breeds and mudbloods were filth! They didn't deserve to live. Muggles were their natural subordinates and need to be controlled. Not all needed to die. Workers and servants were still needed. She had been working the most important job during the Dark Lord's reign, but then he fell.

She was forced to go into hiding, until her old buddies asked if she wanted to continue serving toward their dream of pureblood domination. How could she not say yes? Malfoy... had failed the Dark Lord. His family's line must be eradicated, pruned. She was determined to see it done and hide that it was her. Malfoy would have been dead if it weren't for that idiot Vance. He took matters into his own hands and the traitor managed to stay alive long enough for Potter to break him out. It was very annoying. Everything would have been fine, but no... they had to deal with Potter and McGonagall, now.

But she had to admit... she enjoyed pecking at the boy's soul. It was most gratifying last time to see his tears fall and see him begging for mercy. She was still jittery two weeks later. She smiled hearing how Lestrange had broken him, though it was disgusting. She was even more appalled that the werewolf-beast had defiled him. The boy was tainted. She would be doing the world a service to get rid of him, now that he was impure.

She slowly changed back and swirled her short stubby wand to change her outfit. She made tea, feeling highly superior over the jailhouse scum that she was about to see. She looked out the window and saw Malfoy walking down High Street with his head down. She scanned and saw no one with him. John assured her that he had separated him from his friends. She wasn't too worried. She'd find out soon enough if anyone followed him... or if he squealed. He'd have no choice but to confess his sins. She did so love watching him squirm, trying to avoid the answers. The Veritaserum was properly made this time... and it was beautiful to watch him break.

She spelled the windows shut and put up privacy charms as the door opened. Malfoy's eyes only fleetingly glanced at her, before he stepped in and shut the door.

"Sit down!" she said, shortly.

The boy hurried to sit, shaking. She smiled sweetly. Make him scared.

"Have you been following your probation?"

"Y-Yes, ma'am."

"Auror Dawlish says that your friends broke into his room, is that true?"

"N-No, ma'am."

"I don't believe you," she said, and quickly tied his arms to the chair.

"No... I don't consent," he breathed, pulling his arms. He was panicking and she enjoyed it. But he was still fighting her. That would change. "Are you refusing to cooperate?"

"I'm not going agree to it, ma'am...."

"And no one will believe a Death Eater like you!" she growled and saw his face went pale. She froze him and took some pleasure in his panic as she poured the vial into his mouth.

She let the potion take effect as the boy's eyes watered in fear. Good. Break him. She tore every piece of information she could out of him about the curses, who he had talked to and what they knew. She then dug into every part of his abusive childhood, which he was sobbing by the end of it. She also remembered what John had asked her to investigate, besides his room situation.

"And what are you doing with Bill Weasley on Monday nights?"

Malfoy gritted his teeth and then spat out, "Curse-Breaking. He's trying to help me advance my skills."

"That's what he's teaching you after class?" she asked.

"He's mentoring me for my NEWTS. Transfiguration, Charms and other spells," he said, stiffly.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

"No."

She paused, considering and switched tactics. "What is your relationship with Mr. Potter?"

"We're f-friends," Draco said, becoming still. She smelled blood. John said that there was something there. He said that there's a rumor that he is... an abomination.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Are you gay?"

"Yes," he said, flinching and looking at her in fear and terror. He admitted it.

"Filth... you disgust me, Death Eater scum," she spat and hurled enough abuse at him until he looked broken and pathetic. She hated the mere sight of him. But she knew that she was running short on time.

"Close your eyes, faggot," she growled.

Malfoy willing did it and she waited a few seconds before she started in.

"Have you ever talked about memory charms outside of class or studying for class?" she asked, staring.

The boy opened his eyes, looking at her confused, but his mouth answered, "We talked about Lockhart's memory charm backfiring and..." he trailed off, unable to complete the rest of the sentence. Excellent.

"Do you remember anyone putting a memory charm on you?"

She could see that Malfoy was starting to understand exactly what she was asking, but the serum made him open his mouth and say, "I remember... a woman... but...."

"Has anyone asked you about your past since your trial?"

"No."

When he didn't say anything else, she said," Good. Close your eyes."

"N-No..." he stammered, pulling at his restraints, again.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy... are you a convicted Death Eater and have no right to refuse an order! Close your eyes!" she shrieked, and he trembled, before complying with her order.

"Obliviate!" she said, pointing her wand at him, taking that last bit of conversation away.

He staggered slightly and she said, "You can open your eyes, now."

The sodomite was drowsy, but otherwise unaware of what happened. He was shaking and shattered. Make him hurt, Mafalda ordered.

"Now, listen here. You're a vile... disgusting faggot. I have no reason not to divulge what I know. I would love to do nothing more than reveal what I know... what are you willing to do so I won't tell anyone?" Make him scared.

"Anything, please..." he begged like deviant whore-slut that he was. That Italian fag probably rubbed off on him.

"You will not tell anyone what we are doing, you understand? I would love to see your name in the headlines of the Prophet, again."

Malfoy had tears coming out. "Please...."

"You will report to Professor Dawlish every day so he can... retrain you. Homosexuality is against nature and the laws of magic! Make the time! You must stop being a fag!"

Malfoy didn't say anything, and she let him go. He ran away, again. Dolores felt proud of herself as she sipped her tea. She would break him.

Duh duh duh! The plot thickens, again. I almost called it that. Evil plots are stirring. Battle lines are forming. 

Who do you think the SADE leader is?

Sorry for all the offensive words. I hate people that use them. But some people are homophobic dicks and I won't ignore that they exist (though they need to be knocked upside the head for it).

I'm not going to lie, it was fun writing Zach's POV. I do love shades of gray.

Little shorter than usual, but it was a good stopping point. I really didn't want to write too much into Umbridge's POV... urgh... she is evil incarnate. I can't wait until I write her death scene (sorry for the spoiler).