Chapter Text
“Time to wake up, Malfoy.”
The snickering and talking felt distant. It almost felt unreal in a way, as though all of this was a dream and that Draco was back home, where he was safe and free of suffering.
Draco’s eyes slowly opened, which was when he noticed just how much his body ached. The first thing he noticed was the pain in his muscles, then his massive headache, and last, he noticed that his body – which was completely naked – was bound with ropes, in a way that he could not move or escape. His eyes widened at that realisation, which was when he noticed that he was locked in a metal cage, with a group of men talking together as they laughed at him. At first, he couldn’t understand what was happening to him. This had to be some sort of vivid dream, a consequence of his active imagination. Yet, nothing indicated that this could in fact be a dream. He was aching everywhere and what he could see looked and felt real.
His first instinct was to squirm; was to find a way to get out of those painful ropes he was tied with. Except, none of his struggling did anything: he was completely trapped. After a few minutes, although disoriented, he managed to accept that fact, tears streaming down his face as he looked up at the men mocking him.
His vision was blurry, but he could make out the shadow of men that seemed eerily familiar to him. Even the voice that had woken him up from his trance seemed familiar now. He knew these men, which was why his current state was so funny to them. The rope that was tying his arms together and his legs together was bound in a way that almost cut in his skin, as though it stopped his blood flow. He winced as he raised his chin up, eyes out of focus, but looking as though he was staring at the men outside of the cage. The more he looked, the more he realised that the men were not in fact men: they were young, almost teenagers. Had they gone to school with him? Had they been his victims? Was that why he was there?
Whatever it was, it was clear now that his reputation had completely vanished now. His last name was now meaningless. In fact, nothing mattered anymore, not even his first name, since it was clear that he could never escape from his current situation unless a miracle occurred. He wanted to hide his body, disgusted by the people laughing at his naked body, wanting to cover himself up. He wanted to stop crying. He wanted to die. He didn’t know why this was happening to him, or who those men were, but one thing was clear: he was never going to escape.
—
It had been weeks since he had first woken up in that cage. Had it really been weeks? Draco wasn’t sure anymore. He had learned not to be sure of anything anymore – the sounds he heard, the things he saw, the information that was given to him, all of that could be faked or altered. He didn’t know what to believe or who to believe. Despite all of that, he now knew that the place his cage rested was a basement, most likely close to where he had been taken away, which meant somewhere in England. He did in fact know the men that now owned him. Among them were Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas. The others were unknown. From their conversations, Draco found out that after the War, they had teamed up with several other wizards in order to hunt Death Eaters and serve what they believed was revenge. To them, enslaving previous Death Eaters avenged those whose lives were taken by the Dark Lord.
Most days, Draco spent in his cage, eating very little and being alone. Sometimes, a few men would come down in the basement, get him out of the cage and abuse him in all sorts of ways. They never considered his pain – their goal was to hurt him in every way possible, whether that was sexually, physically or psychologically. It didn’t take much to break Draco, seeing as he had already lost everything he cared about. After a few days of getting tortured by the Cruciatus Curse, getting repeatedly fucked and kicked and punched, Draco wasn’t the same.
After all, he had never really been brave in the first place. He also had nothing to motivate him to fight. His parents had been thrown into Azkaban, his friends now hated him and what had been left of his joy was now stripped away from him. He literally had nothing to live for, and was taunted by those he bullied in school.
It was only when he thought he had lost everything, that things were hopeless and that they couldn’t get worse that he got proved wrong. After days, or weeks – Draco had lost all notion of time by now – of getting treated like an animal, he thought his life had reached its lowest point. That was when another familiar face came in the basement. It seemed to be during the night. Well, at least, Draco had been sleeping. It could have been 10 A.M. for all he knew. Still, Draco had been getting used to his life by then, though he still dreamed of escaping and realising that the whole wizarding community had been searching for him. Except, those dreams were just that: fragments of his imagination. He knew none of them could be real, especially since no one cared about him. If he ever survived this, he would get out to find the same world he had left, authors expressing their hatred of the Malfoy family on several articles in the Daily Prophet.
The familiar face he saw as soon as he woke up though, it didn’t belong to just anyone. At first, it took him a moment to place the person. Not because he didn’t know them that well, because he had been too broken to remember much from his past life.
It was Blaise Zabini. When those mocking eyes stared into his, Draco thought he had been hallucinated. Perhaps this was part of his dream and Blaise was about to rescue him.
Perhaps this was real, and Blaise was about to rescue him. Draco didn’t know anymore; everything was so blurry and confusing and nothing was real.
What Draco did remember was that Blaise walked down the stairs in silence, stopping in front of the cage, a grin fixed on his lips. One thing was sure, he didn’t seem to want to rescue Draco. He reached inside his pocket and took out a key, which ended up being the cage’s key, unlocking it an instant later and hauling Draco out of his cage by force. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Malfoy?” He smiled in a way that was far from being friendly, looking at Draco from above with the same pretentious glare he had always worn. He struck his fist across Draco’s cheek when Draco expected it the least, keeping him on the floor as always, his hands and legs bound in chains. He sat up, his hands resting over his crotch, as though he had anything to hide anymore. He was completely naked for Blaise to see; his hands didn’t hide anything. Draco wasn’t one to beg, though this had become too much to handle. He needed a way out; he needed Blaise to save him. He looked up, his face flinching, expecting more physical pain, his eyes evidently pleading for mercy.
“Please.” Draco’s heart was racing, his entire body aching from daily punishment and abuse. Nothing was right and he wasn’t even sure he was asking Blaise to free him or to kill him, but either way, he would be doing Draco a favour.
Blaise only laughed, a laugh that seemed so different from his usual self, yet so similar at the same time. Draco couldn’t understand why Blaise would do this to him, regardless of anything. This had to be a sick joke, or else it was a nightmare. Blaise was his friend.
He kept telling himself that, as Blaise took off his pants, kicking Draco to the side of his ribs, making him fall over and land on his hands and knees. “Slaves don’t sit, they kneel. It’s a pity you haven’t learned that by now, Malfoy. I’ll have to tell your masters,” he said from behind Draco.
Draco had lost too much to feel in that moment. His pain felt, though he didn’t have many emotions remaining inside of him. If he did, he would have yelled, he would have attempted to escape. He would have cried. Instead, he simply stayed put, on all fours, like he was meant to be. He knew what Blaise was about to do to him, and in a way, he didn’t care anymore. He just wanted it to be over with, so he could go back to his somewhat peaceful dream.
“What a whore you’ve become. Look at yourself, begging for mercy. You deserve this happening to you. No one cares about you anymore, this is why we are all allowing this.”
Draco did his best to pretend Blaise’s words weren’t affecting him, his forehead pressed against the freezing cold floor, eyes clenched shut. Blaise coming here wasn’t a symbol of hope for him to escape, in contrary, it was a sign that no one wanted him. Instead of fantasizing about escaping, he needed to find a way to kill himself. That way, the pain and misery would simply end.
For now, he could hear Blaise’s footsteps coming nearer, stopping behind him and he could feel him kneeling. He expected Blaise’s cock inside him at any time now, just as he had expected Seamus’s, Dean’s and the numerous men they invited on a daily basis. It seemed as though many people were interested in fucking Draco, as a symbol of victory over Death Eaters. Most of them talked to him, too, and nothing was restricted – they could say anything, do anything and most of all, hurt Draco in any way possible, whether that was with magic or with fists.
As Draco kneeled on all fours, he winced, feeling the tip of Blaise’s cock enter him, without anything close to gentleness and intimacy. He ended up bottoming out of Draco, fucking him repeatedly in an almost mechanical manner, hands on Draco’s hips, nails digging into his skin. Draco could hear insults thrown at him, even though they didn’t have an effect on him anymore. He was as low as he could get. He didn’t make any noise while Blaise fucked him, nor did he attempt to escape. He knew that could get him in trouble, which he didn’t need in his situation. Blaise’s voice became noise and Draco felt his cheeks wet by tears that were now falling down his face.
Blaise left after coming inside of Draco, not saying a word to his former friend, slamming the door on his way out. Just when Draco had thought he had lost everything, he had now entirely lost the hope to gain back the life he had lost. He was now assured that no one cared for him, that no one was looking. He was a slave to the wizard community now, almost like an object made for constant abuse. Only, this had just been the beginning of the destruction of his humanity. Things would only get worse from now, regardless of the efforts he would make to save himself.