Save me (Drarry)

Chapter 3 🍕

Finlay...Finlay, Harry repeated the name, liking how it sounded on his tongue. He decided to push his luck and ask Finlay why he was in one of Voldemort's dungeons.

"So why are you in here? What did you do to Voldemort?" Harry asked him cautiously knowing how touchè the topic was from personal experience.

"U‐um, do you mind if I don't tell you? And the real question is what He Who Must Not Be Named did to me." Finlay answered nervously, trying to brush the topic underneath a rug. "How did you end up in this hell hole?"

"Hmm. I got cornered in Diagon Alley by Bellatrix and a few other death eaters. After that I was thrown in here until my friends-Ron and Hermione- find out where I am and break me out." Harry explained his story trying to ease the other boy's nerves by hinting at their rescue. "By the way, how old are you? Do you go to Hogwarts too?" He asked
sitting up and leaning his head back onto the wall.

"I turned 16 two weeks ago, and yes I attend Hogwarts, Potter." Draco replied softly slightly irritated by his nosey cell neighbor, but exhausted of the eerie quiet of the dungeon when he was down there all alone. His only company was his mind, which was a dark and cruel place to leave Draco in.

Potter? Did he just call Harry, Potter?

"Really? What house are you?" Harry snapped his head up, suprised by the new information. Did Harry know Finlay? The name wasn't familiar, and only  Malfoy and his posse called him Potter. He must be a Malfoy admirer then, Harry sighed. He really thought Finlay was nice, but if his icon was Malfoy, then, was there really any hope left? He must be a Slytherin too, Harry concluded.

"We should be in the same year, aren't we? I'm a Gryffindor, although I bet you already knew that." Harry continued, trying to cover up his blatant disappointment.

It was silent for a few minutes and Harry was starting to wonder if he did something wrong. Just as he was about to change the conversation Finlay answered.

"I'm in Slytherin..." That narrowed it down quite a lot. Harry thought back to any Finlay's he knew of from Slytherin, yet again he drew a blank. As little as Harry didn't like to admit it, me never really bonded with any houses other than Gryffindor. Sure he kissed Chang, and had a crush on Cedric, but they were only two people, and certainly not enough to count as house unity. When he really thought about it, Harry knew the most Slytherins, a d that was only because of house rivalry.

Harry opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by the sharp sound of the dungeon door banging against the wall, making him jump out of his skin. Heels clicked over the cold stone floor becoming louder as the person neared. Harry curled into himself slightly yet refusing to seem defeated in front of his enemies without a proper fight. So he fought off his instincts and tilted his chin up, defiance and bravery flashing through his eyes.

Bellatrix passed by his cell not even sparing the boy a glance as she continued to the cell next to him, Finlay's to be exact. The daunting sound of the the cell  door creak open was enough for Harry's heart to lurch to his throat. He felt strangely close to his cell mate, even if they'd only been talking a short while. Harry knew he could take care of himself, yet right now he was completely useless to protect anybody else, Finlay included.

"I came to play with my toy. Do you want to play?" Harry heard her crackle, the sadistic undertone sent shivers down his spine. A lump found its way to Harry's throat, making it hard to breath properly. He was no stranger to pain or suffering. Only this time he didn't have to handle either of those things. Instead he was scared, terrified even. A horrible, ruthless killer was in the same room as him, sounding like the hells of death bowed to her.

There was a second of silence before her voice cracked through it. She gurgled on her own laughter while crucuoing Finlay. He was only a child! How could she be such a monster? Finlay's pain enduced wails followed, until Harry was stuggling to contain his sanity. All he could hear was the blood curdling cries of help mangled with the relentless, joyful chortling. Panic surged through his every nerve leaving them shot and tired when Bellatrix eventually got bored and left.

It wasn't too soon either. Throughout the torture Bellatrix started jeering at Harry. First it was remarks about how he was supposed to be a great hero, yet couldn't even save one boy. Then the jokes shifted to Sirius, saying Sirius would be so proud his death was for nothing now that Harry was captured and would be dead soon. Then she started laughing about how beautiful Finlay's blood looked, painting the walls, the ceiling, her hands.

Harry wanted to rip off his ears. If he wasn't rescued soon he had no doubt he'd turn mad. Loony Potter, all alone in the dungeons. Well, with Finlay of course.

The door slammed shut just as loud as it had slammed open, and Harry had never been more greatful in his life. Immediately he ignored his own disturbed and troubled thoughts, and frantically called after Finlay.

"Finlay? Are you okay? That's a stupid question, of course you aren't. Bloody hell! How can I help you," only silence answered Harry's pleading voice, "please, just-just tell me you are still alive at least." He whimpered.

Sputtering and painful coughing came from the cell, oh thank Merlin!

"Don-don't worry your pretty little head, Potty. I'm still breathing." A hoarse voice called, somehow finding time to joke in such a sad situation. Harry chuckled softly, allowing his heavey eyelids to flutter closed in relief. "Now, I'm going to get some shut eye, and hopefully you will too. We have a big time ahead of us."

"Finlay, I don't think you should sleep."

"And why not?" Finlay responded hautily, "Want me to die of sleep deprivation before the infection in my right arm kills me off do you?" Oh Merlin, the poor boy wasn't supposed to be worrying about dying of infection. He should be playing quidditch or hunting rabbits, like other teenagers did. Both of them should be. It wasn't fair, why couldn't life give Harry a break?

"No of course not you dunderhead. Hermione just likes to read books all the time. And she always rants to me, and well, the book characters always try to keep the injured person awake. I just thought, you know..." Harry trailed off, feeling stupid for his input in the conversation.

"I appreciate you looking out for me, but I don't think it matters. I don't plan on dying anytime soon. I've still got my whole life ahead of me." Finlay murmured the last bit, almost whistfully as if saying it too loud would somehow break the fragile thought if hope. Harry's heart grew heavier with each passing second. Guilt ate at him slowly, he was Harry Potter for Godric's sake! He defeated Voldemort at age 1, yet he couldn't protect a lonely, beaten child!?

"I promise you Finlay, as long as I'm around. I will protect you with all I have." He declared boldly, ready to keep this promise for the rest of his life.

For a second Harry thought the promise hit empty ears, that Finlay had already fallen asleep, but just as he was about to lay down to sleep, a quiet vioce echoed back, "Thank you Harry."

That night Harry lie, curled- uncomfortably so-in the corner of his cell. Anger, fear, sorrow, disgust, pity, and so many more unnamed emotions swarmed around him like bees.