The Ministry Has Fallen

Chapter 9

Author's Note: So sorry about the long breaks in between updates - I'm getting ready to graduate, so I'm considerably busier than usual. When I do have free time, my brain is so fried I can't even think of what to write. So, as my apology, have a longer chapter than usual.

WARNINGS: This story is rated M for a reason. There is a torture scene in the second half of this chapter. If you are uncomfortable with torture methods or mentions of leeches, I apologize. If it truly bothers you, you may skip the section after the dividing line, but you will miss vital information.

That being said, enjoy! I hope to get back to writing soon!

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Malfoy bounced back quickly once in the care of the resistance's medical team. Clearly, torture was not a new concept to him, as he recovered in record time. In fact, a day had hardly passed before Harry had been forced to go to the medical tent in an attempt to convince Malfoy to stay put. Stubborn as they both were, it was several visits before he finally gave the order for the mediwitch to knock the blonde out with a powerful sleeping draught. Even if Malfoy insisted he would be fine, Harry didn't need to risk what could potentially be a valuable asset to their team. Malfoy was intelligent, well-trained, and powerful; Harry would have to be a fool not to admit that. Even Ron had to agree, though with a good amount of grumbling to go with his agreement.

It was a week before Harry finally put the option out there.

Malfoy blinked at him for a moment, as if slowly registering what Harry had to say. "Training?" he asked. "You want to train me."

"Not that you really need help with the magical side of things," Harry responded. "But if you're going to stay here with us, you're going to have to make yourself useful, and the rest of my team agrees that you would be most helpful to us in the field. That means you will have to go through the same training as any of our recruits would. You might get through the program faster, but I can't be making exceptions for anyone, especially someone who used to oppose us."

"Thanks for the explanation," Malfoy sneered. His brow furrowed. "And what if I don't want to fight in the field? Remember, Alistair, I know people on the other side. Some of them were even my friends. I might have had a change of heart, but that doesn't mean I want to go leaping to my death, hoping to take a couple of them out with me."

"Which is why we would train you." Harry's eyes bore into him though, to his credit, Malfoy never flinched. "You have two options: you go through training, after which we determine which team is best for you to join, or we execute you."

"Harsh, don't you think?"

"We can't afford to do otherwise." Malfoy's eyes narrowed, but it seemed he understood. Harry explained anyways. "Anyone who is not on active duty is a liability. Given your past - and despite your valuable help - we would have no choice but to imprison you or execute you. We do not have the resources to keep you imprisoned indefinitely. So the only logical conclusion would be to execute you, however against the idea we might be. No loose ends, you understand."

"Oh, I understand." A small smirk appeared on Malfoy's face. "I think I might grow to like it here after all. I like your guys' way of thinking. It's smart, almost Slytherin of you."

"It's what's kept us alive. Old houses have nothing to do with it."

"I can appreciate that. So, when do I start?"

"You'll be joining us then?"

"Don't have any other choice now, do I?" Harry snorted.

"Smart decision." He threw a bundle of clothing at Malfoy, who caught it easily. "Now get changed. The rags you were wearing when we brought you here have already been burned. We didn't want to take the risk of a tracking charm being woven into the fabric." Malfoy made a face at the news, but didn't protest. Instead, he unfolded the bundle, turning over the dark material in his hands.