Harry has never felt able to open up to anyone about what he faces each summer when he returns to the Dursleys. No-one knows of the abuse he faces there, and he intends to keep it that way. But when Draco stumbles across Harry's Pensieve, all that changes in a instant. Will Draco keep Harry's memories secret, and will Harry finally be able to open up to the people he cares about?
I'm only putting the disclaimer up once, so this applies to every chapter I write for this story. I do not, and will not ever, own any part of the incredible Harry Potter Universe, or the characters within it. They belong to J K Rowling, and any corporations she chooses to allow to use them.
A/N This is my first ever chaptered fic! This means that the first few chapters are very short, and have some slight issues with over-used punctuation :S However, they do get longer and (hopefully), improve as the story goes on.
The 'M' rating is for the mentions and descriptions of abuse.
Oh, and it is eventually H/D, although it is fairly slow-developing and there's nothing explicit.
Enjoy :D
Draco stood in absolute silence, horrified at the scene unfolding before him. He had thought it would be a laugh, thought he might get a few embarrassing memories out of it to torture Potter with. But now, he was beginning to wish he had never entered the boy's Pensieve; never been so damn nosy! He took a few steadying breaths, and eventually forced himself to turn back and face the scene. He had been oblivious to the abuse his classmate had suffered for the four years he had known him, had always thought Potter led a spoilt, pampered life. Draco could not remember ever having been more wrong in his life. Harry had suffered, badly, and he had probably made his suffering worse with his incessant insults! Draco vowed that now he knew, he would cease his merciless teasing of Potter, and would not do him the disservice of looking away, and ignoring what he had been through.
He found he was looking at an eight year old Harry, lying on a cold kitchen floor, sobbing into a jumper at least five sizes too big, while his Uncle bore down on him, a leather belt in his oversized hand. Harry began pleading with his Uncle, but the man took no notice. He swung the belt high above his head, and brought it down onto his eight year old nephew. Once... twice... three times... Draco felt his stomach heave, and had to force himself not to turn away again, as the sickening cracks of the belt mingled with the young boys screams. After ten strikes, the man stopped. He grabbed Harry by the hair, and dragged him out into the hallway.
'Now get in there!' the man screamed, spit flying everywhere, as he opened a small door in the side of the stairs. He threw Harry in, ignoring the sobs now emitting from the small boy. Slamming the door shut, he finally seemed to notice the clump of jet black hair he now held in his hand. He laughed.
'Now you'll have a bald patch to go with that ugly scar of yours, you little freak!' He turned, and walked back to the kitchen, still holding the clump of hair that had, just moments ago, been attached to a little boy's head. Draco stood for a moment, his mouth hanging open. The scene began to change.
As the black fog began to clear, Draco realised that he was in the same house as in the previous memory, this time in the living room. He watched, as a slightly older looking Harry entered the room, balancing a huge tray of food in his hands. He looked about ten years old. Draco noticed that his classmate looked thinner and more tired than he had ever seen him. His cheeks were hollow, and his wrists looked as though they would snap with the weight of the tray he was carrying. He looked deathly pale, and the dark circles under his eyes told Draco that he had not slept properly in weeks. The young boy put the tray down, and quickly scanned the room. Seeing no-one, he crept over to a large armchair, and carefully lowered himself into it. A look of pure bliss came over his face, and if Draco had not seen it for himself, he would never have believed such a simple thing as a chair could have made a ten year old boy so happy. A large figure appeared in the doorway, casting a shadow over the room. Harry leaped up from the chair, but moments too late.
'What are you doing!?' his Uncle screamed. If Draco had thought that Harry was pale before, it was nothing to how he looked now. All colour had completely drained from his face, and he had begun to tremble.
'Uncle, I ...'
'DO NOT speak to me boy! You insolent, ungrateful wretch!' the man raged. 'How dare you take advantage of the time we allow you out of your cupboard?' He advanced towards a now terrified Harry, a look of pure hatred etched onto his features. And Draco could not help it. He turned away. He found tears were blurring his vision, as he heard the sickening crack of leather hitting flesh, and sobs and cries of pain. When he at last turned around, he saw Harry's Uncle re-buckling his belt, a look similar to triumph on his face. Draco looked down at Harry, and gasped. His back was covered in cuts and bruises, some clearly just beginning to heal from a previous beating, some still raw from the belting he had just been given.
'Get up!' the man roared. Harry moaned feebly, and attempted to turn over onto his back.
'I said GET UP!' Draco cried out as a large foot connected with Harry's already bleeding back. He stirred again, and eventually managed to clamber up onto his feet.
'Now go to you cupboard!' Harry ran from the room, and flung himself into the cupboard Draco had seen him thrown into earlier. His Uncle came just moments later, locking him in. The scene began to change again.
Time after time Draco watched memories of Harry being beaten and abused by the only family he had left in the world, and he felt sick. They had beaten him, starved him, locked him in a cupboard for days, forced him to cook and clean for them, and turned a blind eye to the many times Harry's cousin and his friends had beaten him to a pulp. He had seen the many times Harry had faced You-Know-Who, and the night when he had returned just last summer. He watched all of this, and had to wonder just how much this boy had been through in his life. And the abuse was still going on.
Draco watched images from the previous last summer, as Harry thrashed in his bed, crying out at an invisible Lord Voldemort, 'Don't harm Cedric! No, please!' He watched as the Dursley's laughed from the doorway, then beat him the following day for having kept them awake. But they never harmed his face. With clothes on, anyone would think Harry was a normal boy. A little thin perhaps, and obviously wearing hand-me-downs, but well looked after. Draco shuddered at this thought. Just how much pain and suffering was hidden under Harry's clothes, every day?
He felt a hand on his shoulder, and froze. No-one could touch him here! He whipped around, and found himself staring into a pair of emerald green eyes, wide with shock. Before he had a chance to say a thing, Harry had grabbed him by the arm, and was pulling him out of the memory. Before Draco could even begin to think up a plausible reason as to why he had been in Harry's Pensieve, he found himself back on solid ground, in the Gryffindor dormitory. Harry turned to face him, a mixture of anger, shock, and deep, deep hurt filling his eyes.
'What did you see, Malfoy?'
A/N Please review and let me know what you think!