War Torn

Author Note: So, this is my first fic in a while. I'm a little rusty but hopefully you'll enjoy it and if you do please send me some feedback, maybe some criticism in a polite form?

Future warnings for this story will include slash, male on male sex, it could contain slight molestation to a minor, swearing, and violence. I'll warn you if anything else comes up.

Chapter One

Drip. Drip. Drip. The sound of liquid steadily hitting the stone floor of the Malfoy's Manor dining room echoed in Severus' ears. He wanted to believe childishly it was just water, there had been a storm recently rolling through the region as summer storms do. Though Severus knew that steady drip was not water, but blood. Blood from the many prisoners the Dark Lord had acquired over time falling around the room. Sometimes a drop would land on a Death Eater, seated at the long wooden table. They would flinch, bite their tongue, press their lips together, and try to stay calm because it was a popular rumor that Voldemort could smell fear with his serpentine nostrils.

Voldemort of course sat at the head of the table, long spindly fingers pressed together in a steeple as he observed the man walking towards him in his long billowing robes.

"Ah, Severus, what news do you bring me?" Voldemort questioned making a motion with those long fingers to a chair nearby.

"Harry Potter resides with his blood relatives, protected from us. There have been no plans made to move him," Severus recited his carefully thought out speech as he did every meeting. He would meet with Albus beforehand and they would work out what he would say and what he would leave out. Harry Potter was in fact residing with the Dursley's but in one month time it was planned that he would be moved to Grimmuald Place as the Dursley's were leaving on some holiday vacation and the wards that protected Harry would be no use if the Dursley's weren't there.

Voldemort nodded deeply accepting Severus' words as truth and closed his eyes for a moment. Those bright red eyes always made Severus uneasy, often his dreams were haunted by them. But his dreams were almost always haunted by eyes, whether they be murderous red or the sweet green that Lily Evan's were.

"Lucius, tell me of young Draco's inheritance," Voldemort ordered snapping his eyes open to stare down at the blonde man. It had taken quite a bit of effort to break him free of Azkaban after his capture of at the Department of Mysteries but it would all be worth it if this plan came to fruition. Draco's sixteenth birthday was this very night and he should be showing signs on whether or not he would inherit the ancient magical blood that coursed through the Malfoy line. If so the Malfoy's proved to be very promising. If not...

There would be no way to tell if he would come into his inheritance or not and what it would exactly be. Magical inheritances had a tendency to skip generations, it had skipped over Lucius. But the Malfoy's were praying to ever god they had heard of that Draco would inherit something useful as to please their Lord.

"He hasn't shown any signs of yet, but it is still early. He didn't come into this world until ten thirty, only then will we see," Lucius replied in what he wanted to sound as a confident, strong voice but came out with a slight pleading tone holding a tremor.

"Very well, dismissed," Voldemort announced and with a screech of chairs and the whispers of cloaks hurrying along the ground the room was empty.

Four stories above in the Malfoy Manor in young Draco's bedroom he had just started feeling that discomforting feeling of magic spreading throughout his body, itching and burning. He gasped lowly as he felt something he only had ever touched briefly before. He felt power.

XXX

One Month Later

"Thank Merlin," were Harry's only words as soon as he saw the Order members apparate into his bedroom even though he felt slightly annoyed by the invasion of his privacy. He had been at his miserable relatives for a whole month and he could feel his patience about to snap. A frown was pulled taut over his face as he grabbed his already packed trunk. He had been looking forward to this escape for the entire month.

You see after facing a Dark Lord and surviving in the Department of Mysteries it puts things in perspective, especially for Harry. For pushed around and bullied Harry. He no longer took orders from the Dursley's. He didn't cook, except for himself, he didn't clean, except for his own messes which we minimal unlike Dudley's, and he certainly did not complete a mile long list of ridiculous chores every day in the boiling heat. At first his relatives had a hard time understanding this. They screamed, the shouted, they shrieked, and they raved until they were multicolored in the face and Harry wondered if Vernon's blood vessel would finally pop. Eventually they left him alone, they didn't know how to deal with Harry right then. They had always gotten around by making him fear them with verbal abuse. But once you faced the Dark Lord you find it fairly hard to be intimidated by three muggles.

Even though they hadn't been pushing him around all summer Harry still found his patience dwindling for them. He couldn't wait to be rid of them, though that would take a whole other year when he turned seventeen and became a legal adult.

"Thank Moody," the older, limping madman muttered as he grabbed the trunk from Potter shrinking it and shoving it into his pocket for safekeeping.

"And Tonks, thank Tonks," Tonks perked up going over to Harry to give him a proper hug.

"'Ello Harry," Remus murmured softly looking at the young teen. They were both still torn in grief from Sirius's death and it clearly showed in their eyes.

Harry beamed at his rescue team in a maniacal sort of a way. "To the Burrow?" Harry questioned hopefully.

"Sorry cub," Remus replied heavily. "I'm sure they would have told you, but you can't really receive letters here safely. The Weasely clan is up in Romania, Charlie's getting married. Though I do have a surprise for you once we get to our destination," Harry's hopes dropped, his mouth tugged into a pout and then dread settled in his stomach. There was only one place left to go.

"Sirius's house then," he replied glumly, his heart aching at the thought of setting foot in his godfather's empty childhood home. Remus nodded along sympathetically.

"They would have invited you, but it's just not safe 'Arry. You-Know-Who has factions everywhere on the look out for you," Tonks told Harry with a sad smile as she patted him on the shoulder in an awkward sort of way. She wasn't big on the comfort.

"Enough dawdling, the Death Eaters could be arriving any moment. Side apparition Potter, grab on," Moody growled and grabbed Harry's arm before he could even move and with a pop they were gone.

Seconds later Harry was gasping for breath on the steps of Grimmauld Place.

"Don't stand there heaving Potter. Constant vigilance!" Moody barked clapping Harry on the back as they moved inside.

"Gee thanks," Harry choked trying to bring the air back into his lungs as he stumbled in after them.

As usual, dust covered everything in the dimly lit hallway of Grimmauld Place. The place smelled musty and everything looked menacing. Harry hurried through the hallway into the kitchen which was only half decent. The lights penetrated most of the shadows but did nothing for the dust.

"Yes, the place has seemed to let itself go. Kreacher won't listen to any of us. But, Sirius, he left you this house so Kreacher should listen to you, help you fix the place up..." Remus trailed off looking around at the grim looking place. Suddenly there was a high pitched squeal and Harry was tackled by a mass of bushy brown hair.
"Hermione!" Harry shouted, the first spot of happiness blooming inside of him as he hugged his armful of best friend. "You're here!"

"Oh, Harry, I've missed you. How are you doing? You don't look like you've been sleeping well," Hermione rattled off leaning back to give Harry a good look over.

"Hermione, slow down, you need to breathe," Harry joked letting go of the excited girl. He looked behind her, hoping Ron was there but the space was empty.

"He's at the wedding, but he'll be here in two days," Hermione promised him with a sad look and then perked up. "Just you, me, and Remus for now."

"You're staying here?" Harry asked hopefully to Remus. He had missed his old Professor.

Remus looked uncomfortable at the attention. "Uh, well yes, can't leave you all alone. Who knows what sort of mischief you'll get up to. Though I'll be gone a lot, you know my mission for the Order, tracking down other werewolves and bringing them to the Light side..." he trailed off.

"I'm glad you'll be here," Harry told the man with a smile and was pleased when Remus smiled back though it did not quite reach all the way through to his eyes.

"Me too cub," Remus answered with a soft smile.

"Well, if you're all done hugging," Moody grumbled showing clearly what he thought of hugging. "We best be off. Remember you two, constant vigilance!" he announced and with that and wave from Tonks they were off.
"They'll be back often, Order members will be sweeping through here most of the day and some of the night," Remus offered looking down at his two charges.

"Harry, you look starved, I made soup, come eat," Hermione announced pulling the skinny boy to the table.

"Yes, Mrs. Weasely," Harry teased as feeding him was the first thing the mother hen of the Weasely clan had always done whenever she saw Harry. Hermione though took it another way, a blush spreading across her cheeks at the thought of the title.

"Bugger off," she mumbled grinning like a fool.

XXX

Meanwhile...

The sound of footsteps slamming into the ground shattering the seemingly still night jarred Draco out of his shocked state. He was escaping. He was leaving. He just had to make it to the edge of the wards of the Malfoy Manor and he could apparate away. He had just a little farther. Anxiety bubbled in his chest. For a month since his magical inheritance he had been a prisoner in his own home, a toy to the cruel Dark Lord. He had been his pet. Draco scowled at the night, willing the haunting manor behind him to just vanish, explode maybe. He hated every inch of his childhood home now that those horrifying memories had been painted on the walls. He hated everyone within. Even his own family. His flesh and blood who had turned their backs and averted their eyes when the Dark Lord requested him, when the Dark Lord used him. They had sold their only son to a raving lunatic.

"Boy," someone screamed behind him, he didn't turn around. The Death Eaters had been alerted of his escape. Could he make it? He was so close, but they had wands and he didn't. His first day with the Dark Lord had been watching the cruel serpentine man break his own wand into tiny pieces and thrown them into the fire, forcing the blonde teen to watch them burn. Not that he really needed a wand now with the powers he possessed, the powers he inherited. But still, it had been an anchor to his childhood, a comfort, a memory of warmer days. Now he was cold and there was a weightlessness to his pocket where he usually stored the piece of wood, this weightlessness disturbed him.

"Draco!" he heard his father's voice bellow behind him, straining with the effort to reach his son's ears. "Draco, please!" his father begged. If Draco left, Lucius and Narcissa paid no more purpose to the Dark Lord. What use were they now? Draco kept running. Hate bubbled inside his chest along with a childish urge to turn back, run into his mother's arms. They were his parents. His cold, cruel, malice parents that chose and unforgiving lord over their son. They chose their fate the moment they had that monstrosity tattooed on their arm. They knew from the moment he was born he would belong to the Dark Lord one day, magical inheritance or not, and still they raised him to be the perfect little weapon. The perfect little pet.

Draco's insides burned with disgust, with rage, and they churned with a sharp sort of pain. How could they do this to him? They were his parents! His own parents. His father had never shown much affection to him, that was the Malfoy way, but Draco always believed his father loved him. Had that all been a lie? His mother, regretting her and Lucius' actions held the remorse in her eyes, still though she turned her back when they came to take Draco away from his old life to become the Dark Lord's little pet. She had said nothing, lips pressed together in a thin line. She hadn't even looked at him one last time. Draco had been pleading, begging, he was ashamed to admit even crying at one point but still she would not turn to meet his gaze. He was invisible to her, she had already forgotten him.

With a harsh gasp he broke through the wards, the feeling of the magic slipping over him and then gone. He turned around at last to see a crowd chasing him. A group of Death Eaters and his parents running after him, to catch the escaped pet, Draco thought with malice. Without a second thought he turned on the spot and apparated away to the only place he knew was safe, Severus.

He landed a block away from Severus's house, not wanting his path to trace right back to Sev's doors. Scattering his magic signature about the wind, he used these new inherited powers to hide any evidence of him arriving here and then swiftly made his way to Sev's house. The door opened after several heavy knocks, Severus glaring down at the intruder until he took the shaken blonde boy in front of him.

"Draco," he grabbed the boy and thrust him inside quickly locking the door behind them. "What are you doing here?" Severus asked hurriedly, his eyes searching for damage along the boy. "I have been worried. I've been writing to Lucius, even coming to the Manor to speak with you, he said you were away."

"Sev," Draco mumbled, the inquisition was only making him more exhausted. "I'm in trouble, they're coming after me. Will you help me?" Draco got right down to the point, peering up at his godfather. He had always suspected his godfather's allegiance lie outside of both forces of this war. He was very secretive about what he believed, but the man seemed to neither be on the Light side or the Dark side, though he insisted he was on both. He was the only one Draco could trust. The only without an agenda.

Severus seemed to notice a change about Draco. Realization came into his eyes. "You came into your magic inheritance, didn't you," Severus asked urgently earning a small, feeble nod from Draco. "It was something, something that the Dark Lord found useful and you escaped," Severus guessed, earning another nod and a relieved sigh from the worn teenager.

So his godfather hadn't known about his inheritance, he hadn't been waiting like his parents to give him away to the highest bidder or in this case the cruelest and most powerful bidder. Severus opened his mouth to ask another question, he was probably wondering what Draco was that made the Dark Lord so interested but second guessed himself.

"We will talk more later, now is a time for action. I will have to take you somewhere safe, this place is unsafe. They will come to me, assuming you had asked me for help. Come Draco, you won't like the place you'll be staying but you'll be safe," Severus pulled Draco to the fireplace and lit it with green flames, pulling the teen in with him as he shouted an unknown name, something like Grimmly Place? Draco assumed it was this safe house Severus had been referring to. A flash of green later he stumbled through a fireplace and landed on the stone floor. No matter how many times he floo travel he never got the landing right.

"Malfoy?" came a familiar and very confused voice. Oh Merlin, he knew that voice. Harry bloody Potter.