It dripped down his nose, droplets landing on his lips silently, crawling down his thin cheekbones and down his neck. He couldn't see anything because of it, and lifted a shaking, bony hand to wipe it out of his eyes, leaving a dark, wet red smear. He could taste something vaguely metallic on the tip of his tongue.

The man in the white coat lay motionless, his head missing. Well, it wasn't really missing, just... spread out. The once pristine white walls and floor were now cloaked in a red haze of death, and it made his heart skip a beat, because anything was better than the mind numbing white walls.

His legs had started to shake, not used to carrying so much weight; the chains were beginning to hurt again. He opened his mouth to whimper quietly, which only allowed more of the red liquid to fight past his lips.

The door opened and two more men came in, holding weapons he'd seen before in their hands. He blinked, remembering when there were others here, apart from him. The memories washed over him like a bucket of cold water, and he shivered.

There was another one, but he was older, and stronger. He could do things with his mind too, like the boy could, but he was explosive, like gunpowder in a wildfire. He'd lash out at the guards frequently, and wouldn't abide by their rules. They brought those weapons into the room once, and pointed them at him after he'd broken a guards arm.

They went off with a loud bang that left the boy unable to hear anything for a few moments, his head ringing and feeling like it was going to split in half. When his hearing finally did return... the screaming, oh how he screamed. The same sticky red liquid was flooding from his knees.

They'd dragged him away, still screaming, and the boy hadn't seen him ever again after that.

He watched the guards as they moved closer, those things still pointed at him. He didn't want to end up like him. The boy lifted both his hands, and an explosion of sound rung through the air.

The guards fired, but the bullets glanced off the boy's hands as if they were merely paper planes. The guard stared, dumbfounded, before they were flung backwards against the door. The weight of their two bodies sent the door off it's hinges, the guards collapsing in a heap. The boy gulped, his head beginning to pound, his own blood now streaming from his nose and dripping slowly from his ears.

He ignored the way his head was swimming, and left the room.

******

Harry opened his eyes blearily, sunlight washing onto his face. He shut his eyes tightly, the sun made them hurt. After a few moments he became used to it, and shifted, finding his back hurt immensely.

They were still in that machine, which was moving slowly. Harry blinked sleepily, looking over to Draco.

The boy was tapping his fingers against the steering wheel repetitively, his usually tidy blond hair a wild mess. The dark circles under his eyes were almost black, and his eyes were bloodshot and watery.

Draco noticed Harry was awake, and tried to offer a smile, which came out as more of a grimace. "We'll be there soon."

"Where?" Harry mumbled hoarsely in reply, lifting his hands to rub his eyes.

"A hotel, somewhere we can sleep properly. Then we're going to Hogwarts, my school. There's someone who can help us there."

Harry frowned at the multitude of words he didn't understand, but didn't bother asking. Draco looked tired.

A dull headache throbbed behind Draco's eyes; he felt like he'd just had a frontal lobe lobotomy. He'd managed to find a few galleons in the car whilst he was driving; it would be enough to get them a room at the Leaky Cauldron, and some new clothes. Draco didn't feel like spending the next two days in his pyjamas.

After about ten more minutes of driving, Draco saw the Leaky Cauldron come into sight, a flood of relief washing over him. He parked the car on the side of the road and got out, too tired to be humiliated about walking around in his pyjamas. He opened Harry's door and helped the boy out, Harry staring around, bewildered at the streets full of people, houses, and cars.

Draco didn't let him stop and stare for long; who knows if one of the Death Eaters had followed them? Or if there were any lurking on the streets, ready to catch them? He bit his lip as he pushed open the door to the Leaky Cauldron, hoping that there weren't any inside.

A few strange looks were all they received, Harry huddling as close to Draco as he could get, nervous at being in a place with so many people he didn't know. Draco weaved through the tables, reaching the bar.

"Need a room," he said, sliding a galleon across the table. "Just a few days."

The man eyed them up, taking the galleon. Draco tried to stare him down, but wasn't successful. "I'm gonna need a name."

Draco scowled. "I'd prefer if you didn't tell anyone we were here," he slid another galleon across the bar. "Just a room, no questions."

The man looked back and forth between Draco and the money, and Draco bit back a snarl, becoming impatient. Who did this man think he was, a lowly bartender, probably not even earning half of what Draco had just given him. Why didn't he just take the bribe?! Draco was about to raise his voice, when the man nodded in a surly manner, and took the money, exchanging it for a set of keys.

Draco glared at the man again, snatching the keys off the desk and walking towards the stairs, not letting go of Harry's hand. Draco looked at the number on the keys, and found the room quickly.

He shut the door and locked it, noticing the charmed lock. These were harder to open, a simple alohamora wouldn't work. It offered Draco a little bit of solace as he collapsed into the bed in the centre of the room, Harry sitting down beside him, looking a bit upset and overwhelmed. Draco was too tired to comfort him however, and was asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

******

The room was darker when Draco opened his eyes again. It wasn't quite dark; perhaps only twilight, small, weak rays of sunlight casting shadows onto the ground.

Draco winced, his head pounding, telling him to close his eyes and go back to sleep. Ignoring it as best as he could, he rolled over slowly.

Harry was sitting cross-legged on the bed, watching the door, but he wasn't exactly looking at the door. He seemed to be looking through it, if that was even possible, a faraway, missed look in his emerald green eyes. He noticed Draco was awake and gave a thin-lipped, nervous smile. Draco returned the expression weakly, propping himself up on one elbow. He shifted, looking out the window. The shops in Diagon Alley would still be open.

Too tired to be embarrassed, he took Harry's hand and left the room, making their way down to the passage which led to Diagon Alley. They'd buy some new clothes, go back to sleep for a few hours and get back in the car. They had to get to Hogwarts as quickly as possible.

Aside from a few strange looks, the trip went smoothly, something Draco was glad of. As soon as they got back to the room, Draco collapsed again, giving in to the headache and falling asleep once more.

******

"Draco."

Draco groaned tiredly, unwilling to open his eyes. He could have only been asleep for what; an hour maybe? He was jolted awake as a cold hand slipped over his mouth, and as his eyes adjusted to the dark he saw Harry sitting on the bed, a finger to his lips.

Draco nodded slowly and Harry withdrew his hand. "Danger" Harry mouthed, pointing towards the door.

A wave of cold terror washed over Draco and he sat up slowly. How could they have known they were here?! Draco's terror stricken expression twisted into a scowl. That bartender must have sold them out.

"Where?" Draco whispered. Harry looked back towards the door, and pointed.

"Hallway. Four."

Four of them? Draco got up slowly. He couldn't fight off two on his own, let alone four. They had to get out of here quickly. Draco took Harry's hand and walked towards the door, trying to be as silent as possible. He opened the door, peeking out of it.

There was no one in sight, but Harry pointed down the hallway to their left. "Down there. Coming."

Draco nodded and turned to the right, trying to move as quickly as he could whilst not making the floorboards creak. He turned around the corner, hiding behind it for a few seconds whilst he tried to remember the buildings' layout. He sound of quiet voices and footsteps urged him onwards, not knowing how to get out but deciding that waiting around wasn't the best thing to do.

They hurried down the hall, Draco slowly picking up into a jog as they got further away. He didn't know the Leaky Cauldron had this many rooms; it looked like a shabby bar from the outside. It must be enchanted, the hallways seemed to stretch on forever. Finally he saw one that he recognised, ducking into it, relieved to see the staircase that led down into the main bar.

Draco stepped onto the first step, intending on rushing down them and sprinting to the car outside, but Harry grabbed his sleeve and pulled him back. Harry put his finger to his lips, and Draco stood still, listening. Voices came from the bar below; there were men down there as well. Draco scowled, his relief disappearing instantly. They wouldn't be able to sneak past; there was no way out of this without a confrontation.

Draco bit his lip. He didn't have his wand, and the trace was still on him. He couldn't use even wandless magic without giving himself away, and Voldemort had people working in the ministry who could track him down using that. He looked at Harry, feeling pained. Harry blinked back at him through the dark and nodded slowly, knowing what Draco wanted him to do without being told.

Harry took a step down onto the top step, eyes locked on the figures talking in hushed voices in the dark. The room was pitch black, no one could see anything. Maybe they could sneak past.

Draco followed, trying to be quiet, but the difference in his and Harry's weight caused the top step to creak rather loudly, causing a sudden silence across the room.

Draco froze. The silence lasted a second or two before the room exploded into a dazzling light show of magic. Harry had his hands outstretched and was deflecting the bolts of light being shot at them with one hand, the other firing back with magic of his own.

Draco leapt down the stairs, ducking bolts of magic as they flew past him, blasting holes in the walls. Harry followed, suddenly agile and almost cat-like, sending streams of magic from his palms, evading all the ones sent at him.

Draco flew out the front door, chest heaving from the sudden adrenaline rush, his heart pounding loudly in his ears. The cold night air was like a bucket of ice cold water being poured over his head, his panted breath coming in foggy wisps. Harry followed at a breakneck speed, crashing into Draco, which seemed to break the boy out of his panic.

Draco grabbed Harry's hand and they ran towards the car, the sound of footsteps pounding towards them. Draco ducked as a jet of magic shot over his head, knocking over a lamppost with a loud crash. Draco was pulled back as Harry stopped suddenly, causing him to fall to the floor.

He cried out in pain as his wrists connected with the cold, hard stone ground, sending a shockwave through his body. The sound of someone choking made him look up, and his eyes widened.

One of Harry's hands was raised towards the sky, closed in a fist, his arm shaking with effort. In the air was one of the death eaters, clawing at his throat and thrashing around wildly, almost like a fish caught on a hook. Harry flung his arm to the side and the death eater was thrown into the side of the cobblestone building beside them. Draco felt sick as what was left of the man's body slid to the floor with an awful squelching sound, the dark red blood glittering somewhat beautifully in the dark.

Harry wasted no time. Blood sprayed through the air, the drops flying in all directions, Draco feeling it drip down his cheeks. He watched, aghast, as one of the remaining death eaters was simply turned inside out. The sound of bones cracking was sickening, the wet sound of meat and muscle falling to the cold floor making Draco want to throw up. The next man was ripped in half down the middle, and Draco shut his eyes, not wanting to see the man's body lying in half on the floor.

The night was silent for a few moments then, Draco still lying on the cold, wet ground with his eyes shut tightly. Harry stood motionless, staring calmly at the mess he'd made as if it was something he'd seen a million times before. In hindsight; he probably had.

Finally Draco got the strength to pull himself up, wincing when he was forced to put weight on his sprained wrists. He did his best not to look at the filthy mess of gore and meat, and focused his attention on Harry instead. "Harry, come on," Draco said, his voice hoarse and croaky.

Harry turned to look at him, and Draco saw that none of the blood on him belonged to the men. It was dripping from his nose down his face, from the corner of his mouth and onto his chin, and was slowly seeping from his ears down his neck. Harry didn't seem bothered or in pain at all however, watching Draco with a calm, almost sleepy look.

"We've got to get out of here," Draco said quickly, seeing their car parked down the street. He knew that the muggle police had ways of tracking down criminals, there were probably those recording devices they used on this street. He gulped, moving to grab Harry's hand and pull him towards the car. The last thing they needed was an even bigger mess on their hands.