Chapter Three.

Malfoy’s eyes widened and he moved back quickly away from me.

I stopped and sat the chair down and sat in it, staring at him. What in the name of all that was magical had gone on in that house? “Draco.” I tried softly.

He was still staring at me with wide eyes, and they pleaded with me to leave him alone, not to hurt him. Ginny had got that same look in her eyes when a door slammed anywhere near her. Begging to be spared. I swallowed at the feelings the memory stirred in me. I had a job to do. I hadn’t been able to save Ginny, but I could maybe help Malfoy.

“Draco.” I repeated softly. “It’s ok; I’m not going to do anything. I’m going to try and help you. Alright?”

He didn’t relax, but his head lowered, giving in.

“I need you to tell me what happened.” I said quietly. You couldn’t go demanding they tell you, they would just associate you with the person who had hurt them. Though to Malfoy, maybe I already was associated with Harry, after all, it had always been the two of us against him, Crabbe and Goyle. I sighed softly as I saw his shoulders tense more. “It’s ok. I know what it was him beating on you. I know it wasn’t your fault. But I need you to tell me what happened, when it started. Can you do that?” it wasn’t that I thought he was stupid or anything, it was just when a victim was this cowed and broken you needed to draw everything out of them. I had never handled one myself before, but I had seen Ruth do it during my training.

He glanced up, and I thought I could detect a little hope in his eyes, that maybe I was going to listen to him. He nodded slowly after a minute. But he didn’t speak.

I checked a groan. I had never really had the patience to deal with something like this, which was probably why I had never had a case like this before. Usually I got the ones who wanted to talk about what happened; after they had been reassured they weren’t going to get hurt for it. I studied him thoughtfully, wondering where to begin.

“Ok, so… when you two were dating, when I knew you were dating. Did he ever hit you?” I asked.

He nodded.

“When? And why?” I asked, hoping to get some kind of vocal reply. Once I got him talking it shouldn’t have been too hard to get the rest of the story.

There was silence for a minute, and I thought he wasn’t going to answer when finally a raspy, unused voice floated over to me from him. It was so quiet I had to strain to hear him. “When we argued, he would h… hit me to make it stop.” He shivered suddenly and clasped his hands in his lap and started at them.

“And later? When did it start to get worse than that?” I asked.

He swallowed hard and stayed quiet.

“Draco-“ I began, about to reassure him that Harry couldn’t get him here, but I must have moved towards him without realising because he flinched away abruptly.

“About four years ago!” he gasped out, gazing at me, terrified.

I moved back and frowned, I was beginning to piece together some of what had happened to make him react like this. He honestly didn’t know how he was supposed to respond to me. If he didn’t answer he got hit, if he did and the answer wasn’t well received, or hadn’t been wanted, he was hit. I admit, I didn’t know what to do to calm him down. He regarded me as one of the enemy, even though I hadn’t done anything to him.

While I tried to work out how to make him trust me I decided to keep questioning him. If I got enough information I could help him better. “Why did it get worse?” I asked calmly.

Malfoy glanced from me, to the door, to the window and back to me. At least I had gotten him to respond. “I want… wanted to l… leave h…him.” He stammered out after a minute, cringing back slightly.

I nodded slightly. “He wouldn’t let you.” I stated needlessly.

He nodded.

“How did he get you to stay?” I asked. It wasn’t unusual for the victim to stay for promises that it wouldn’t happen again, only to become trapped when it got worse. But this was Malfoy. Nothing like that would have gotten him to stay. He wasn’t the kind of person to fall for that. So how had he become the victim?

“He took my wand.” He whispered.

I had to strain to hear him. So that was how. Without his wand Malfoy had no way to defend himself. “Is that all?” I asked.

He shook his head.

This was like trying to draw blood from a stone. “What else did he do?”

He blinked up at me, and I felt a shiver run through me at the lifelessness of those eyes. “He wouldn’t let me out.” He murmured.

I blinked back, that could mean so many things. Had Harry locked him up somewhere in the house until he couldn’t stand it anymore and submitted to be let out. Had he been kept inside the house and grounds, no human contact. I didn’t really want to think about it. I didn’t want to believe Harry really capable of something like that. But the image of Malfoy clawing at the door to a room, begging to get out. Well it didn’t seem impossible, no matter what I wanted to believe. But I needed to know.

“Where wouldn’t he let you out of?” I asked.

The terror filled his eyes again, and to my complete shock and horror tears leaked from his eyes. His shivering grew worse. He pulled his knees up to his chest and buried his head in his arms, looking for all the world like a child. I wanted to go over there, to reassure him that everything would be ok, that he wouldn’t be locked up like that again. But I didn’t. because I didn’t know how he would react, he didn’t trust me, and if he reacted badly he would never trust me, and he wouldn’t open up more, and I couldn’t help him.

So I watched him cry softly until the shivering subsided and he went still. He was well aware that I was watching him. But he was waiting to see my reaction, waiting to see if I would reassure or scorn him. I frowned thoughtfully at him for a moment. “I think we should leave it at that for now.” I said, watching his head rise slightly so he could see me from behind the tangle of blond hair. “Your safe here Draco. I’ll come back to see you tomorrow. In the meantime, if you need anything just call Gerard or Cassandra, they’ll help.”

I got up, and his eyes followed me across the room to the door, I could feel them, fell the surprise in them. The surprise that I wasn’t going to do what I had done as a child, make fun of him for showing me a side of him I had never thought possible. I turned at the door to face him. “You’ll be ok Draco.” I reassured him. Closing the door lightly as I left the room.

I felt a faint stab of something. Like guilt, when I left him there, but I did have other things to do. And he would be better looked after here. But for some reason that didn’t ease my conscience on the matter. I sighed and headed for the nearest fireplace, I had to make a house call to see how Dominick and the children were doing, my other case at the moment. But my mind was focused on the blond in room fourteen of St. Mungo’s Trauma unit for the rest of the day.

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