His Daughter's Father Part 1

Title: His Daughter’s Father Part 1

Site: https://www.angelfire.com/tv2/firebird_ascending/

Author: Constant Vigilance

Disclaimer: JK Rowling is God. I own nothing.

Distribution: Sure. Just lemme know where my baby’s going.

Spoilers: Up to GoF. Book 5 never happened. *Growls at Rowling*

Summary: Harry is raped under a conception potion. Draco makes the consequences bearable.

White-hot agony. There was no other way to describe it. His head throbbed in time to his gasping breaths thanks to the unfortunate meeting of his skull and the dungeon wall. He gasped in short wheezes, trying to get air in through his bruised windpipe and around Blaise Zabini’s delicate but steel-like fingers. His stomach ached from the repeated application of Blaise’s boots and he was sure that Blaise had nicked his kidneys with that last punch.

His stomach felt heavy; he thought maybe it was from swallowing the blood gushing down his throat from his broken nose and his nearly severed tongue. The Slytherin had impeccable timing, having thrown the uppercut just as Harry thrust his tongue out to test the bloody lip Blaise had given him. The resulting jar of teeth through tongue made his vision blur and his head spin.

He continued his vain attempt to get up, to crawl away, but Blaise was having none of that. For the second time in as many minutes, Blaise snatched a hold of Harry’s hair and slammed the Gryffindor’s forehead against the wall. Harry gave up at that point. He couldn’t see; he couldn’t think; his entire body and mind were handed over to the stars shooting across his closed eyes.

Then he felt his head dragged backwards again and braced himself for the inevitable collision of skull and stone. What he got instead was Blaise pinching his broken nose shut. Red daggers of pain shot through Harry’s face and he opened his mouth to whimper. At that point, Blaise shoved a phial into his mouth and tipped it up. The vile-tasting, cool liquid slid down Harry’s throat, gagging him.

“There you go, Potty,” Blaise chuckled. “Drink up like a good little Gryffindor. Now the fun part begins.”

Harry would have snorted had his nose not hurt so much or had he not been so focused on not passing out. ~Fun? Oh, golly, how could it possibly get more amusing than this? ~ He regretted that thought a moment later when Blaise’s deft hands divested him of his robes. He tried to protest, to clutch at his clothing, but the other boy just slapped weakened hands away and tore the material.

Blaise slammed Harry up against the cold dungeon wall; though the impact sent shock waves through him, the coolness of the wall revitalized him enough for full cognizance just as Blaise pried open his ass cheeks and jerked his hips back.

In an impartial part of his mind, the one not currently screaming his throat raw, he decided that he would rather have been kicked around a few more hours than to be taken sans lubricant or preparation by a boy who hated him. Gentle, uncaring, even rough were not in Blaise Zabini’s vocabulary. Sheer vicious hatred more accurately befitted the occasion.

Harry’s nose slammed into the wall with each harsh thrust and knew he was painting a bizarre picture of red smears for Filch to clean up. Vaguely, he recognized that Blaise was speaking. After a second of concentration, Harry realized that the other boy was chanting lewd observations about Harry’s arse and so Harry tuned him out.

Suddenly, the hot agony intensified as warm semen flooded Harry’s channel, coating the tears in salty heat. He felt the other boy pull out and deliver another kick to his aching side. “There you go, Potty,” Blaise sneered. “Just a little gift from the Dark Lord and me to you. Hope you enjoy it!” Footsteps disappeared down the hall and Harry lay listening to them fade into the distance.

~Get up get up get up, Harry~ He tried to order his body into moving.

~Please, Harry, you have to get up. Someone will come by and find you soon~ Cajoling didn’t seem to be working either.

~If you get up and get out of sight, maybe you’ll bleed to death before they can get to you~ Hmmm, apparently bribery had it’s benefits. Harry lifted his body up one centimeter at a time and began crawling. He had absolutely no idea where he was going or even where he was anymore, he just knew that if he kept crawling, he’d find safety soon enough.

What felt like hours later, he glanced up to see the statue of a beautiful woman gazing down at him curiosly. He attempted to speak and began coughing raspily as his throat protested the abuse. He didn’t see the look on the statues face change from curiosity to pity nor did he see the lever flip on the statue’s base. He only knew that, suddenly, in front of him was the entry way to heaven:

A tiny room, not much bigger than the broom closet back on Privet Drive. It was dark. It was safe. He crawled inside and the door closed gently behind him.

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“Where can he be, Ron?” Hermione demanded, eyeing the common room again as though Harry would suddenly appear to appease her.

Ron shook his head. “I have no idea, Mione. He said he’d only be a minute.”

Hermione bit her lip and glanced around the room. She leaned in. “Get the Marauder’s Map. We’ll find him with that.” Ron’s eyes lit up and he bounded up to the dorm. Moments later, they had exited the Gryffindor common room and were secluded behind a suit of armor in the hallway.

“I solemnly swear I am up to no good,” Ron intoned, tapping the map with his wand. He smiled. “There he is.” The smile faded. “What is he doing in the dungeons?”

Hermione snatched the map and studied it carefully. “Why doesn’t matter. Let’s just go get him.

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“Oh yeah, he was tight,” Blaise chortled in response to Crabbe and Goyle. Pansy gave a little moue of disgust and moved away. Draco moved in closer to hear Blaise’s gloating. “He was definitely a virgin,” Blaise sighed blissfully, “and he screamed so nicely.” Crabbe and Goyle grinned and slapped Blaise on the back.

“Who?” Draco interrupted.

Blaise raised an eyebrow. “Why do you want to know?”

Draco glared. “Because I’m Draco Malfoy and I asked.”

Blaise raised his hands in mock surrender and laughed. “Fine, fine. Don’t get your robes in an uproar. You Know Who asked me to do something for him,” he stated proudly. “Not that it was a hardship by any means.” More grins from Crabbe and Goyle.

“What did he ask you to do?” Draco demanded.

Blaise shrugged. “He ordered me to give Potter a conception potion and then fuck him.” He grinned.

Draco did not.

“And did you?” Draco’s voice was glacial.

Blaise furrowed his brow. “Of course! You don’t disobey the Dark Lord!” Crabbe and Goyle nodded vigorously in agreement. “Course, I would of done it just for the fun of beating the living hell out of Potter and then reaming his virgin arse.” Crabbe gave him a high five and Draco saw red. He pulled his wand in one swift movement and pointed it at Blaise.

The other Slytherin looked at him in confusion. “Torus extendere,” Draco whispered, rage clouding his gaze. Blaise turned as white as a sheet and his eyes opened to their fullest extent. He crumpled to the ground howling in agony, every move he made causing his screams to multiply. Draco smiled harshly and turned to leave, brushing past nearly a dozen gaping Slytherins.

“W-What did you do, Draco?” Pansy breathed in horror.

Draco just shrugged and let the door close behind him.

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“But he’s supposed to be right here!” Hermione moaned. Draco sighed. Great. Just what he needed to interrupt his search for Potter: the Weasel and the Mudblood. “I don’t understand. The map shows him right here.” Draco braced himself and stepped out into the corridor.

“Looking for someone?” he drawled. Sure enough, Ron’s gaze wished him into an immediate painful death while Hermione just looked frustrated with the interruption.

“Malfoy, go away,” she said tiredly. “We don’t need any crap from you right now. We’re busy.”

Draco leaned against the wall. “So, you aren’t looking for Harry?”

Ron stalked the distance separating them. “What did you do to him, you bastard?” he snarled.

Hermione stepped forward as well. “You might as well tell us, Malfoy. You know Harry tells us everything.”

“You better not be trying to blackmail him, you git!” Ron poked a finger into Draco’s chest.

Draco rolled his eyes in disgust. “Oh, whatever, Weasley. I just cursed a student and ostracized myself from my own bloody house for the Golden Boy. Why the hell would I try blackmail?” He shoved Ron’s finger off of his chest.

Ron looked confused. Hermione looked mystified. “What are you talking about, Malfoy?” she asked.

“Blaise Zabini,” Draco sighed. “He came into the Slytherin common room bragging about how he was on a special mission for Voldemort.” Ron winced at the name and Hermione rolled her eyes at the predictable response. “Zabini said that he forced Potter to take a conception potion and then he raped him. I cursed the git for it and figured Potter couldn’t find his way out of the dungeons on a good day, much less when he’s hurt, so I came looking for him.”

Hermione swayed on her feet and Ron lost all of his color. “No,” she breathed.

Ron tried to look angry. “You’re just making that up!” Though his statement sounded more like a plea.

Draco snorted. “Believe what you want to, Weasel. Meanwhile, I’m going to keep looking for Potter because, if I know Zabini, Potter is lying somewhere bleeding to death.”

Ron regained his color. “Why the hell do you even care, Malfoy?”

Draco opened his mouth to reply when Hermione stomped her foot. “Both of you knock it off! Harry is down here somewhere, hurt terribly, and we don’t have time for you to be fighting!”

Ron looked ashamed; Draco just turned away and began back down the corridor. “Er, Malfoy?” Ron’s wary voice followed him. He stopped and sighed.

“What, Weasel?”

“We…er…tracked him to this corridor. We just can’t seem to find him in it.” Draco turned back and raised an eyebrow.

“Tracked him, eh?” Ron looked everywhere but at the blonde. Hermione nearly growled and snatched the map from Ron’s hands, thrusting it into Draco’s.

“He’s right here,” she pointed. Draco gave himself a mental reminder to investigate this map at a later date, but for now, he just looked from the map to the hallway, comparing.

With a crinkle of his brow, he walked up to the statue of Circe and began circling it. “Aha!” He murmured and kicked a lever. A low grating noise echoed through the hallway and a door swung open behind the statue.

“Oh, my dear Merlin,” Hermione breathed in horror.

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The door to the infirmary slammed open, startling Madam Pomfrey from her seat in the office. “What in the world…oh, great Merlin,” she scurried out and pointed to an empty bed. Ron and Draco gently eased Harry’s abused body onto the mattress and stepped back to let the mediwitch work. “What happened?” she demanded as she matter-of-factly tugged Harry’s bloodstained clothes off.

Hermione began blubbering, hysterically telling of their frantic search for Harry and how Draco found them and then they found Harry. Ron just kept opening and closing his mouth like a fish and patting Hermione on the back. Draco sighed. The saviors of the wizarding world, indeed. “He’s been beaten and raped.” he stated flatly. “A conception potion was used.”

Pomfrey looked up sharply at him, assessing his expression. Cool gray eyes met hers unflinchingly and she nodded. “Hermione, go and get Minerva,” she ordered. “Ron, fetch the Headmaster.” She glanced back up when she didn’t hear any movement. They were still standing, frozen. “Now, children!” They started and scurried to the door like frightened mice.

She eyed Draco for a moment, but he ignored her and moved to assist in the removal of Harry’s clothing. Content that he wasn’t going to cause trouble or have histrionics, she allowed him to help. Ten minutes later, the heads of Gryffindor and Slytherin burst through the door, the headmaster hot on their heels. Draco looked behind them for signs of the Mudblood and the Weasel and when none appeared, he assumed that they had been sent back to their dorm rooms.

~Good thing I didn’t let the old bat send me off on a mission. ~

Snape cornered him immediately. “Mr. Malfoy, it seems a bit strange that you should be involved in the rescue of Mr. Potter.” Draco nearly laughed in his face. ~Smooth, Sev. Very smooth. ~

“Perhaps,” he nodded, backing away from the bed to let Pomfrey begin working her will on the slight body lying on the covers. “However, I was less than amused at Blaise’s boast of Voldemort ordering him to rape and drug Potter. As such, I shared with Mr. Zabini a spell I learned at my father’s knee and then went looking for his victim.” Draco sneered slightly. “Torture and brute force are not my preferred modes of manipulation, Sir. I found the entire situation…distasteful.”

Dumbledore placed a hand on Draco’s shoulder, bright eyes dulled with pain for his student. “Or perhaps you found who you truly were in a moment of urgency,” he whispered before turning to Snape. “Please go to the Slytherin dorms immediately and lift whatever curse Mr. Malfoy used to incapacitate Mr. Zabini. After that, bring Mr. Zabini to my office.” Snape nodded and left in a swirl of black.

“Madam Pomfrey will be working on Mr. Potter most of the night, I should think,” Dumbledore continued. “Minerva, I know that Ron and Hermione wouldn’t normally spread tales, but some things are just too horrible to keep to oneself. Please attend them and attempt to quell any hysterics that arise in the Gryffindor tower.” Minerva nodded, took one last pained look at Harry and left as well.

The old man turned his eyes on Draco. “So, my boy. What do you propose I do with you?” Draco said nothing, just watched warily. “You have cursed a fellow student, and knowing any spell ‘learned at your father’s knee’ it was nearly an unforgivable, I’m sure.” Draco flushed. “However, you came to the aid of another fellow student, probably saving his life. You have gone against the demands of your father’s master, and I must tell you how proud that makes me. But you have made many enemies in your own house.”

Draco simply nodded. He’d thought of nothing else since he and Pomfrey had stabilized Harry. “That is all true, Sir,” he agreed. “I am certainly willing to take whatever punishment you feel is deserved.”

Dumbledore’s lips pinched. “I’m more worried about the punishment your fellow Slytherins feel you deserve.”

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