.:Run:.
by: StupefiedNarutard
NOTES: 'Ello, everyone! (My name's Bruuuce) (jk, Nemo reference) (sharkbait ooh bop...a... do..o...) I'm in a bit of a Harry Potter rut. However, I've altered some of the facts in Harry Potter to fit purposes of the story, such as timing of certain events (this will still be in 1997, however). I will try to keep them as in-character as possible... but this is fanfiction after all. This starts off at the end of the 6th year of Hogwarts, which is the end of April instead of May, but Dumbledore is alive because I need him for the plot. Voldemort was unable to get his plan in motion because Draco left Hogwarts in the mid-beginning of the year and went into hiding.
Summary: Draco Malfoy had always been one of Voldemort's favorites, that is, until he finally gains the courage to leave the Dark. Being hitlisted by the Dark Lord, Draco obtains the help of Albus, only to be put where he'd never want to be: with Harry.
[Drarry]
To say that Draco Malfoy didn't know what would happen would be a complete and utter lie.
No, Draco was not surprised by the matter at all. After all the Cruciatus curses he'd been through, all the lies he had to tell, Draco was in no way, shape, or form taken aback by the news that the Dark Lord wanted him dead. He had been foolish, listening to his father's pure-blood nonsense and his own false sense of ambition, to join the Dark Crusade at such a young age. He had known the Dark Lord wouldn't be exactly as his father had made him out to be. But Draco hadn't been at all impressed by what Voldemort really was. After he realized what he'd been listening to all of his life, a big ball of nonsense, he'd known that he wouldn't last as a Death Eater, when they finally decided to Mark him. Of course, Draco only stayed with the conviction that he was doing all this for his family.
Sure, Draco loved his family very much, but to say he completely got along with them would also be a lie.
Yes, Draco had been handed the dirtiest of all plates from birth, he realized, and had gotten over that fact long ago and accepted that his family would never change. Lucius was a pompous, cowardly excuse for a father, while Narcissa was the most dramatic creature he had ever seen, though he was very close to her. And that made Draco very tired. He was so tired... Tired of wearing his mask of prudish indifference, feeling completely drained of all emotion. Could he not just give up someone else's dreams to claim his own for once?
Yes, these past two years had changed him greatly. No longer was he a sniveling, rude little boy following every word his father uttered, whether in fear or admiration, neither mattered anymore. He'd been tortured enough and had seen and felt enough death lingering around him that he realized that some things didn't matter... like being pure-blooded, or having a perfect family. He just wanted to get out of the madness his life had become. Once he had learned that they planned to use him to kill Dumbledore, Draco had had enough.
The blonde-silver haired male pulled on his dark robes, wrapping his green and silver scarf-tie around his neck. Even after leaving Hogwarts to avoid Voldemort in his plans, he'd still kept his Slytherin colors. In fact, half of his closet was green, silver, and black. To tell anyone he was originally supposed to be Gryffindor would be hilarious, because he so went with Slytherin. Damn hat was as batty as Dumbledore.
Speaking of the devil, that's who Draco was trying to see today. Well, not trying. He was going to see the Headmaster of Hogwarts. The blonde was currently hidden away from everyone since he had found out about his bounty. He had immediately busied himself with finding a way to get to Dumbledore. He feared it was the only person who could help him with his situation. Of course the old fool would accept him back. He was Albus, for Chrissakes. Draco rolled his eyes at the thought. Self-righteous old bastard.
The old man had immediately replied to his owl (such a slow way of communicating!) and had replied that it would be a pleasure to meet with him. He had said some nonsense about how evil was never the way to go in the first place and he was glad Draco had come to his senses. Of course, Draco had scoffed and snorted, quickly burning the letter and excusing the owl back to Hogsmeade.
Draco was supposed to use a portkey designed specifically by Dumbledore so that Draco wouldn't have to use any magic Voldemort or the other Death Eater's could actually trace. The portkey was located in a small muggle restaurant, in a cosy little bathroom, in the middle mirror. He wondered if any muggles would wonder how he had managed to go to the bathroom and leave without coming out of the bathroom. They would probably just think they had missed him. The diner was not too far from his hiding spot, conveniently, so he didn't have to use a taxi or walk very far... not that he had any muggle money. He only bought food from the best wizarding food stores around... or... at least he used to.
The teen's silver eyes fell to his clock and it's incessant ticking. That was the only sound he could hear in this lonely, dank place. The room he was in was overused and underpaid. He was currently in a small hotel bedroom, the only thing he used apparition for after he'd found out about his death warrant. He had been here for about a week, living off of complimentary breakfast and breakfast leftovers. He had become friends with one of the maids here, her news of the outside world the only thing he could get any news from, since the t.v. was absolutely bonkers. He could vaguely tell which news was from the wizarding community and which was from the muggle world, since some of the tabloids she talked about included weird happenings and major events. He heard about a collapsing bridge that he remembered the Death Eater's were supposed to knock down that week.
A knock at the door brought Draco back to his senses. He frowned. Was it time for house cleaning already? He cautiously lifted himself from his sitting position on the bed, pulling his wand out, a spell at his lips. Moving as quietly as possible, he made his way to the door to look through the peep-hole.
'Shit. Sending them already?' Draco thought to himself, seeing a Death Eater sitting at his door, listening intently. Apparently his apparition hadn't gone unnoticed. They just needed to make sure it was him... What to do...
He couldn't very well apparate to Albus's office... his magical signature would be traced and they would know. And he couldn't alert the Death Eater to the location of the portkey because they could still use it. He pondered all this for a moment, until another, harsher knock interrupted his thoughts. Heart pounding, he glanced at the window. He wasn't that far up and he could probably lose this guy if he kept in the eye of the public. He knew Voldemort didn't want the muggle world to know of his presence yet-he wasn't strong enough. Draco silently nodded to himself and took a breath.
'I better not break my leg trying this. Let's hope being a Malfoy has trained me enough for this run.' Draco lunged, flipping quickly and using the velocity of his flip to kick off of the floor, sending him busting through the fragile glass of the dirty window. Silken hair flying all around him, he landed on his feet, dropping to one knee before taking off again. Glancing over his shoulder, he noticed the Death Eater sticking his head out to see what had happened. They locked eyes momentarily, the Death Eater scowling in anger. The man turned quickly from the window, only to come out of the entrance of the hotel at the bottom.
Draco was sprinting by now, grabbing the attention of most everyone around him. "Where's the fire?" someone had commented, laughing, until he was knocked unceremoniously to the ground by a less than friendly man who was also running.
'Right, left, or straight?' Draco asked himself as he sped on down the sidewalk. Glancing around, he figured that to the right there were more people and was closer to the diner... so he could get away easier. Turning sharply, he flung himself right, into a large crowd of people. He smiled to himself as he watched the Death Eater pause at the corner, confused look on his face. The man went straight as Draco was disappearing down the other street. 'Now. Where the hell is this diner?'
Draco hadn't slowed any as he searched through the small diners. Well, damn it, they were all cozy! And all of them said diner! Couldn't the old man have been more descriptive? Draco wondered if perhaps Albus had finally turned evil and was playing a cruel joke on him. It seemed right.
'Waffle Diner, Mickey's Diner, Lemon Drop Diner, Fine Diner-' Draco almost growled as he glanced at the Lemon Drop Diner. What were the odds?
"Miss me, little Draco?" A deep voice startled Draco and the blonde swung his fist instinctively behind him, knocking the owner of the voice to his back. The Death Eater from before. The man cursed as he held his bleeding nose. Taking the temporary opening, Draco took off again, flying into the Lemon Drop Diner, hoping the Death Eater had been too distracted to see his entrance. He pushed the bathroom door open and touched the middle mirror, disappearing instantly.
"Well, that man looked as if he really had to go," a worker in the diner commented to her customer as she poured him coffee.
"It seems so," they laughed together, both wondering a few hours later where the strange young man with the blonde hair had gone and why he never came back from the bathroom.
Draco landed harshly on a cold, hard floor. He was out of breath and his hair was all over the place. He sat up, trying to catch his breath.
Clutching his side, Draco pushed himself up, calves and thighs aching a bit from his sprinting. He had been cooped up in a dingy little hotel room for quite some time. He wasn't ready for the sudden increase in physical activity and his screaming muscles were testifying to that theory. The blonde massaged his muscles a bit before straightening, smoothing his appearance slightly before he started walking.
Suddenly, Draco was bombarded with a heavy feeling of nostalgia. The dark hallways, lit by a warming light, were so familiar and so safe feeling Draco felt like he could cry. But he wouldn't, of course. He just kept walking, face impassive as he glanced around, watching shadows dance on the strong, stone wall. He vaguely recognized what part of the castle he was in. It was close to Dumbledore's office, thankfully, but why the Headmaster hadn't just put him directly into the over packed room was beyond him.
The young wizard remembered stalking the halls with Crabbe and Goyle, as if he'd owned the place, looking for trouble... especially for Saint Potter and his gaggle of "courageous" Gryffindors. Recalling the feeling of superiority made Draco feel a little sick. He wished that perhaps he'd be able to take it back, all the insults, all his jinxes. What if he had been sorted into Gryffindor? Would he be friends with Potter and his friends? Would his father have even let him continue to stay in Hogwarts? After all that Draco had endured in such a short period of time, the blonde wondered at how different his thinking had become. He smothered those thoughts though, walking cautiously through the halls.
Draco heard a group of giggling girls and pressed himself into a small dip in the wall, covered by darkness. He watched them with narrowed eyes as they passed, recognized their attire as Ravenclaw, and relaxed his shoulders. He didn't want to run into any Slytherins. They'd recognize him immediately and most all of them had Death Eaters in their families or extended families. Sighing almost silently, Draco waited until he heard them no more and slipped back out into the hall. Soon he was seeing the curve of the castle that lead to Dumbledore's office.
"Lemon Tart," Draco muttered and followed the staircase up to the Headmaster's office.
"Aaah," Albus began, but Draco had been expecting that, "Draco. Come right in. I've been awaiting you. Lemon drop?" Draco stared at the object for a moment, contemplating on whether to take one or not. He wondered, for just a brief second, if anyone actually ever accepted one. He shook his blonde head and reaffirmed his answer by stating, 'No.'
"Word gets around very fast, Mr. Malfoy, especially where Tom Riddle is involved. That he wants you dead is shocking- you're too good of an asset to let go," Albus said with his back turned, pouring some tea into two cups that had appeared suddenly. "But what," the old wizard inquired softly, "would bring you to me, Draco?"
"You should know that as well as I, Albus, if you are as all-knowing as they say you are."
"I thought you too proud a young man to beg for protection."
"I'm not begging. I'm asking. From a man who used to shelter me as a father would in these very halls," Draco pegged in at the end, still remembering some of the talks the two had had.
"I see," the old bat turned to gaze at Draco with his ever mirthful, twinkling eyes. He hovered the dainty tea cups so that one was placed on his desk, the other slipping into Draco's waiting hands. "Well, then, you came to the right place. You were such an impressionable child when you were younger, Draco. Your father didn't offer you much protection, did he?"
With that comment, Draco stiffened, face turning an angry shade of purple. "Do not talk of that man in my presence," was his immediate reply, fury burning towards Albus, for talking about the man, and anger at his father, for existing. "And do not act as if you knew before I showed you. Or should I say... before you forcefully took away what's mine?"
"Very well, Draco, I'll give you that. I had my suspicions, though, my dear boy. That's why I took what is still yours. It did help you in the long run, now, didn't it?"
"You're playing with fire here, old man, I suggest you to hold your tongue."
Albus looked rather amused and turned away, coming to sit at his chair behind his large desk. "You've come at exactly the right time. You see, I have another person eligible for protection as well. Two together is better than one in hiding."
"I don't need any-"
"He's a rather good person, he is. Charming, smart, courageous-"
"Sounds like a Gryffindor," Draco interrupted, teacup poised in mid-air as he was about to take a sip.
"Ahhh, I think you know him as well. It would be the very last person Tom Riddle would ever think you to be with."
Draco pondered this for a moment, tossing and turning all of the people in Gryffindor before it smacked him right in the face. He slammed his teacup down, not caring if he'd broken it or not.
"Hell no." Draco stated, face a dead-pan expression. Dumbledore had finally gone bonkers. Bloody wanker.
"Come now, Draco, you know that Harry Potter is not that bad a person," Dumbledore looked as if he might laugh as he said this, taking a sip of his hot tea. Some of the portraits in his office were giggling merrily at the Malfoy's expense. "Plus, I don't think I'd like to put him back at the Dursleys. They are rather... abusive. His protection wards will be breaking soon, as well."
Draco scowled at the realization. Harry Potter... abused? He would have figured the boy to be completely pampered as he had always been lead to believe he was. Perhaps it was just Draco's jealousy... Still, a child should never be abused... especially by parents. Draco stood quickly.
"Why on Earth would you put me in a 10-mile radius of Harry Potter? You are senile and I'm seriously doubting my own intelligence for coming here to you in the first place. Perhaps if I just hide with Professor Snap-"
"Who is still considered a Death Eater? If any of the others found out, my only spy would be ruined."
Draco sighed heavily, plopping back down on the entirely-too-comfortable chair. Dumbledore softened at the sight. It looked like old times. Draco in his eternally dark robes, silver eyes looking towards Fawkes, petulant look on his face. He had seen it so many times before.
"I would have liked to be in a place where I could monitor my mother. She is very important to me," Draco said softly, massaging the outer lids of his closed eyes with one hand. His scarf-tie was starting to make him feel hot, so he pulled at it in annoyance.
"Professor Snape will make sure to keep an eye on Narcissa. He's already talked to me about the very subject," Albus smiled knowingly and Draco narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Albus had this figured out, like always, hadn't he? Sighing again, he stared into his former teacher's eyes.
"Very well, Professor, but if he so much as sneezes on me, I'm going to hex1 him until he can't stand."
"Marvelous!"
Harry quickly made his way through the halls filled with buzzing students. While most of them were oblivious to how much danger hid behind the rolling hills of Scotland, Harry was well aware that he'd soon be facing an enemy that had made his whole life a living hell. Sure, he'd gotten Hermione and Ron in all this mess, and he'd gotten to meet so many great people, Lupin, Tonks, the Weasleys... and Sirius. Just thinking about Sirius made Harry want to stop breathing. He'd only known him for a small amount of time, but his love for his late godfather was something that he thought he might've felt for James, had the man lived to be his father.
Taking a deep breath to steady himself, the brunette made his way to the familiar office that he'd seen so many times in his stay here at Hogwarts. In the back of his mind, Harry was well aware that he would never be coming back to finish his educate at this place he'd learn to call his real home. Here, even though faced with many dangers, he'd felt safest. He had people he loved here, teachers, his best friends... He had a connection to his deceased loved-ones here and his adventures, however scary, were something he would cherish because at least, in those dangerous times, he was surrounded by complete love.
"Lemon Tart," Harry waited for the staircase to appear and made his way to Dumbledore's office, thoughts on his life here at Hogwarts.
"There you are, my boy, Harry," Dumbledore welcomed softly, sitting behind his large desk, a cup of tea in his hands. Fawkes squawked in recognition and Harry reached out with a tentative finger to brush his flaming red-and-orange feathered head. The phoenix relished the attention and Harry grinned, then took his usual seat in front of the old Headmaster. He looked out from behind his spectacles at the long bearded man, waiting for his inevitable speech about Harry's situation.
"I heard you did exceptionally on all of your exams. Well done, Harry," Dumbledore commented, conjuring up a small cup of tea for Harry, who mumbled a small thanks and blew at the hot liquid before taking a sip. Dumbledore stared at Fawkes for a moment, while Harry sipped a little, then looked at the young man. Harry placed his small cup on the small table beside him, and folded his hands to sit in his lap.
"Oh, well, I suppose we should just encapsulate the unimportant to the important stuff, as usual," blue eyes twinkled a bit as he said that, and Harry had the decency to blush a bit, embarrassed that Dumbledore thought him impatient. "You're here, of course, to discuss your personal safety options for this summer. You are well aware that your safety blanket, the Dursley's house, will lose their safety charms on your upcoming birthday, correct?"
"Yes, sir," Harry affirmed, his leg starting to bounce a little, as he swam in his undeniable anxiety. Dumbledore looked at the leg and looked away, disliking that Harry had to feel even more troubled.
"I know that you usually go to the Dursleys' at the end of the school year. I know... that they haven't treated you very well. For that, I am very sorry," the Headmaster looked into Harry's emerald eyes as he apologized, and Harry looked away, mumbling something like, 'It's not your fault they're horrible.' Dumbledore smiled at Harry's forgiveness, so easy to get from the teen boy in front of him. He had Lily's easy-natured love. "I think that it would be wise to send you elsewhere for the summer until the barrier is broken. When that happens, Voldemort, who will be expecting you at your house, will be confused long enough for you to use a portkey to your new, safe location. No one will know of your location but me and two other people that I trust undoubtedly."
Harry was speechless, obviously believing that he'd have to spend a miserable summer at the Dursleys' once more. He thought about the safety of it all and felt comforted by the fact that he would be in a place that only Dumbledore knew about. None of his friends and relations would be in danger if they didn't know where he was. He wondered if he'd be alone and where Dumbledore would put him.
"Where will I be going, sir? Will I be staying with anyone?" Harry inquired, and Dumbledore smiled a bit, conjuring a few sweet biscuits that Harry refused. Dumbledore took a small bite of his sugary treat and stood, opening a tiny cabinet and pulling out what looked like a backpack of some sort. The brunette looked at it curiously as Dumbledore made his way to where Harry sat, placing himself in the seat next to Harry.
"Here, you will need this on your journey. Whatever I place in here will reach you no matter where you are. Just reach in and grab what I place in there. You will receive mail and money this way, Harry," Dumbledore explained and Harry took the brown rucksack into his hands and looked at Dumbledore, in confusion.
"Will I be alone, sir?" Harry asked, and for some reason, being alone filled him with more dread than anything ever had. He didn't want to be alone. He never did. Dumbledore seemed to notice his fear and shook his head briefly.
"No, my dear boy, you won't be alone. But the person I am placing you with is someone that you might not want to be with."
"How do you mean, Professor?"
"He hasn't be the friendliest towards you and perhaps you won't trust my judgment when I place you with him, but I implore you to look past pretense and accept that when I say you can trust him as well, you can." Dumbledore looked very grave and Harry nodded slowly.
"You will be going to America," Dumbledore paused for Harry's small gasp, "with Draco Malfoy."
Harry stood, his brown rucksack falling from his lap. "I'm sorry, sir, but Draco Malfoy? Malfoy? His father tried to killed me and is a Death Eater. I know you asked me to trust you, but-"
"Then do trust me when I say that he is done with being on Voldemort's side. There is much about Master Draco that you don't know, just as there is plenty of information Draco does not know about you. I'm afraid I must insist that you go with him to America. There you will be able to hide without Voldemort's knowledge and our plan to get you to safety with as little cost as possible will work."
Harry looked as if he might start arguing again, but he closed his mouth, his emerald eyes a bit stormy. "Yes, sir," he finally answered and Dumbledore nodded.
"Pack your things tonight, then, and say your goodbyes to your friends, Harry. You will leave, bright and early, tomorrow morning."
(1) I'm going to sex him until he can't stand. Lolol, I'm a pervert. That's all I could think of after I wrote that sentence.
ABAHAAHHAHAHA.
That's all for now...
What do you think so far? Please let me know, lovelies!