A/N: Pairing? I have a Draco/Harry, what should this be? Not really prepared for a Snarry, working toward that one. So ideas? I was thinking Lucius/Harry (OMG have I got a thing for hot blondes or what?), or the more feral Fenrir/Harry? Perhaps another Death Eater's child? Or all the way with Tom/Harry? (I am fond of the dark wizard going gray for love) I'm going for the Gray!Harry here, I'm sure, but other than that I haven't decided… (No Het, don't ask, if I'm going to write, it is totally slash fic for me, ;))
Chapter Two
Dark Lord's Change of Plans
Harry awoke with a groan. He hurt good gods he hurt. It felt like every bone in his body was on fire, and all his muscles along with them. Granted this wasn't an unusual experience. He was glad to see no light streaming in, which meant he hadn't overslept. Maybe he could sleep a few minutes more. That would be nice.
"Harry? Are you awake?" a strange voice, familiar, but strange. Why was there a strange voice in his room, he thought numbly, oh he must still be sleeping.
"Not if you're here," he muttered. "Still dreaming," he said waving his hand in front of his face and rolling to his side.
There was a snort of laughter. "As much as I find it amusing you'd dream about me, you're not dreaming."
Harry blinked and rolled over to his back to find himself staring up into the pale eyes of his rival and the last person, aside from Vernon, he wanted to see. "Malfoy? The fuck…" he muttered, sitting but feeling a jolt of pain go up his spine, winced and lay back down. "Fuck," he muttered, slowly regaining his memories of last night.
He felt a potion bottle pressed into his hand and he took it without a word, eyes closed. His throat was rather sore. He honestly didn't know what was happening. The last he remembered was a lot of pain. He'd been late, and he knew he was dead. And then Vernon…he was angry beyond all reason. Maybe it was stress from work, his aunt had said something about him having problems, and told him not to get on his bad side. They'd been fighting as well, and he'd noticed that his uncle was sleeping on the couch most nights the last week.
"Why are you here? Where am I?" he muttered, rubbing his forehead. "I feel like I was trampled by a herd of hippogriffs, though that's not all that uncommon, honestly."
"You're in my house," came another, smoother, older voice. Harry's eyes flew open to find himself staring at the one and only Lucius Malfoy, who stood behind his son.
He groaned. "Maybe I was better off back there…" he muttered, a headache flaring behind his eyes despite the pain potion.
"I'd think anything would be better than where he retrieved you from, Mr. Potter," came another voice. Harry jerked his head to the side to see Severus Snape looking down at him.
Harry wasn't sure what to think, but he was dizzy, and the world began to fade out in thick black patches. He muttered something and caught the frantic whispers around him as he felt the world slide away for a while.
Passing out was not the reaction they were hoping for, of course. Lucius looked up at Severus who was just as surprised. He moved forward and waved a wand over him and Severus sighed.
"Stress, I think," he muttered and looked at the others. "I'd say let him sleep. You realize he has no reason to trust us? Someone should stay with him."
Draco nodded. "I suppose I could, Uncle Severus," he said, sitting beside the bed. "I mean, just for now. I believe that the dark lord wanted to talk to you both anyway, right father?"
Lucius nodded. "Yes, he's called a meeting so we should go. Draco can call on the house elves if he needs anything."
The two men headed to the dining room and picked up a snake shaped statue and activated the portkey, arriving in the entry of Riddle Manor. They headed into the sitting room where the rest of the Death Eaters were waiting already.
"Apologies, my lord, our guest woke as we were leaving," Lucius said, bowing.
"As I'm in an incredibly good mood, I'll let the tardiness slide," Voldemort said from his seat watching the room of figures. His pale skin and frightening visage since his resurrection were something to get used to even by the most hardened of the Death Eaters.
Severus and Lucius took their place standing in the circle. "I've called this meeting because I've come into possession of something I wanted to have my hands on very much, one Harry Potter."
There was murmured sounds of astonishment and a mad giggle from Bellatrix. "Silence," he said and all were hushed. "Now, this does pose an interesting set of circumstances. As much as I would like to simply kill the boy, something stays my hand."
"You should not let him live, my lord! He is a danger to you as long as he lives!" someone announced.
"Yes, but wouldn't it be sweeter if instead of killing him, we turned him to our side of this war?" the dark lord asked, smiling. "Now, Severus, Lucius, what can you tell me of his condition? When we spoke yesterday you said he was injured, and when I asked you to bring him, you said he could not be moved. Explain."
Lucius nodded. "My lord, Draco noticed that he had been injured and followed up. What we discovered upon arrival was that the blood wards protecting the house were falling. Realizing that this could only mean the boy was in danger of death, we entered the home, coming upon a…scene. We retrieved him, and Severus treated the physical wounds."
The dark lord nodded. "What do you mean by coming upon a scene?"
Lucius swallowed. "When Draco and I entered we found him beaten and bound, his uncle in the process of raping the boy. Severus does not believe it was the first such occurrence for him. He has extensive signs of old breaks in his bones, and extensive scarring of various types."
"What was the cause of the immediate peril?"
Severus nodded. "He was bleeding internally from a punctured and collapsed lung as well as from the rather brutal amount of tearing he suffered in the assault from the muggle. It took ten blood replacers and it wasn't sufficient to completely replace his blood stores. I've set several to simmer to use on him today."
The dark lord was silent, thinking over the information. The Light had made him into a savior, but had left him to rot in a place where he was abused. Tom felt a twinge in his gut at the thought, remembering the orphanage, but Voldemort pushed those things away. He didn't feel such things. But it offered a great opportunity.
"Lucius, you are to keep the boy at your manor, heal his wounds, offer him comfort and anything he desires. Sway his opinion. Show him the truth of the so-called Light as we see it, and give him reason to decide for himself. We both know that there is much he doesn't know, coddled by those who work for the greater good. Before I meet with him, I should have my original body returned rather than this form. It should be another face that greets him instead of this one if I want to make the Light regret ever rising against me," he said, waving a hand dismissively at both men.
Severus and Lucius both bowed and ducked away to use their return portkey. The rest of the Death Eaters awaited instructions.
"I want information on these muggles the boy lived with, everything you can find," he said to Nott who ducked and was gone. He turned to Fenrir. "I want to know everything that can be found about the Light's current doings. No deaths, not now." He also left the dark lord. Before long, he'd sent them all out on missions and found himself in deep contemplation.
At Malfoy Manor, Severus and Lucius appeared once more in the entry and went down to the potion master's rooms.
"He hasn't woken," Draco said as they entered. "What did the dark lord say?"
Severus put a hand on his shoulder. "He wants us to take care of him, heal him, and reveal the truth of the Light to him."
Draco blinked. "He isn't going to kill him?"
"I would think that healing him would be low on the priority list if he wanted him dead, son. Now, go rest, we'll no doubt have more to talk of tomorrow."
Draco headed up to his rooms and sat on his bed thinking over what he'd seen. He'd successfully had his entire world view shattered in two days. He looked down at his hands which were shaking and was glad his father couldn't see him now. He was trying to wrap his head around what had happened. The person he wanted to hate more than anyone he felt no hatred for anymore, only what? Pity? No, it wasn't pity. Draco was a Malfoy and Malfoy's did not pity. He looked up and saw his mother in the doorway.
"What is it, Dragon? You look shaken," she said, entering and sitting beside her son.
He nodded. "My mission is over, I don't have to watch Potter's muggle house."
She nodded. "Good, I was going to miss you being gone much longer. Did someone take over for you?"
He shook his head. "No, father and I brought him in."
She looked at him with arched brow. "I'm sure the dark lord was pleased. How did you manage that? I thought his house was warded."
"The wards fell, and we went in and rescued him," he said softly.
"Rescued?" Narcissa asked, frowning. "What happened?"
Draco looked up at her and she recognized the look of someone that had seen something that had shaken them to their very core. It wasn't a look that could be forgotten and she was very sure that it was something that Draco would struggle with.
"He was almost dead, mother…and…and he's been abused so badly, mother. He's covered in scars and…" Draco's throat caught.
"Dragon, what is it, love?" she asked, growing concerned.
"The muggles that took care of him did it…when we went in…his uncle was…Merlin, mother, he was raping him, right there, and I saw it…" he said, looking up with haunted eyes.
Narcissa blinked. "Oh, my, son, that's terrible…is he here?"
Draco nodded. "He's down in Uncle Severus's rooms. It took ten blood replenishers, and two skele-grow…and he was late for dinner."
"What do you mean, son?" she asked, confused.
"He fell asleep in the park, I saw it, and when he woke up, he was late for making them dinner…that's what he did wrong…" he said looking up at her.
She stroked his back. "That's terrible, little dragon. What does the dark lord plan?"
"Father said he wanted to heal him, and sway him to our side," he said softly.
His mother nodded. "At least he won't kill him outright, the poor child. I'll go down and see him, you get some rest, love."
Draco watched her leave and sighed, his mind reeling. His rival, the boy he should hate, wasn't pampered and loved, not at all. He was hated and reviled, and treated worse than the people the dark lord tortured. He'd had his fair share of slaps to the face, mostly for cheek, but he'd never been hit hard enough to be left bruised. With that thought he fell into a fitful sleep. Spending the day waiting for someone to wake up and then watching them afterward had turned out to be more stressful than he could imagine.
Narcissa made her way down into the lower level and to the rooms where the boy was. He heard them talking as she entered. Lucius looked up.
"My love, I suppose Draco talked to you?" he asked, putting an arm around her waist.
"He did, may I see him?" she asked.
Severus nodded, motioning to the transfigured bed. The blood potions were done, and he went over and tipped the boy's head back, pouring two more down him. His pallid color returned to a slight bit better color slowly. He then unwrapped the bandages and set to healing the remaining cuts and bruises.
"Good Merlin," she whispered, fingers tracing old scars on his chest. "How long has the boy lived like this?"
Severus sighed, massaging the bruise salve into a large one on his bicep. "I scanned a few surface memories, and the earliest I saw was around four years old. Other than that, I'm not sure."
"I'm still surprised Dumbledore didn't do something," she said, running hands through his soft black hair, smiling as he nuzzled into the touch. "Has the boy never experienced kindness?"
"I doubt it, Cissa," Severus said, pulling the sheet up and rolling him to his side, continuing to apply the salve, not to the deep bruises that marred the flesh on his hips and buttocks. "This…I cannot say what to think. Dumbledore assured us that he was well cared for, and vastly exaggerated the malice of his aunt and uncle."
When he was done, Severus positioned him on his back and covered him with a thicker blanket. "He should stay here for now, so I can monitor him, but a proper bed would do him good."
Lucius nodded. "I would certainly not call what he had a proper bed. What of his thinness?"
Severus sighed. "He's vastly underweight already, and he's been there three weeks. I can only guess that he has had very little food in that time."
"Were they poor?" Narcissa asked frowning. "If he wasn't fed, and they dressed him in rags," she said, lifting the remains of his clothing from beside the bed before incinerating them with a spell.
Lucius shook his head. "Most certainly not. The house was well kept, the uncle quite fat, and everything else, while not extravagant or rich, was certainly not poor."
There was a groan and the looked to see his eyes flutter open. Once again, a potion found its way to his lips and he drank it, grimacing at the taste. "Thanks," he muttered hoarsely.
He looked around tiredly. "So, who gets to hand me over so I can die?" he asked. "Because I'd prefer sooner than later, anticipation isn't my favorite thing."
"You won't be dying on my watch, Mr. Potter," Severus said, handing him another potion which caused him to crinkle his nose up but he drank it, sputtering. "Get used to it, nutrient potion. And for your information, you are not going to be handed over to anyone."
He looked between the two Malfoys and Severus. "Aren't you going to give me to Voldemort?"
"The dark lord has decreed that he does not wish to kill you," Lucius answered. "He would like to speak with you once you are well. He does not wish to kill you. But if you insist, I'm sure he can arrange for that to happen."
Harry shook his head and winced, pain shooting through his chest. "Ow, what the hades did he break this time?" he groaned. "I know he broke my wrist, and my face was on fire…"
"Ribs, shattered your orbital bone, you were bleeding internally, if Lucius and Draco hadn't brought you to me, you would have died from blood loss, or from the collapsed lung," Severus said, leaning against the stone table behind him.
Harry nodded. "Yeah, he was royally pissed. His face was purple. I think me telling him to fuck off might have done it, forgive my language, Mrs. Malfoy," he said, glancing at her.
"Quite alright, dear," she said soflty. "And why did you tell him that if you knew he was going to hurt you?"
Harry snorted. "I guess I thought if I made him mad enough it would end one way or another so it didn't matter how bad I antagonized him. Either he'd kill me and someone would believe me, or no one would care if I died."
"No one believed you? You mean you asked for help?" she asked, brow furrowing.
"I did, but everyone said I was just exaggerating because the muggles didn't worship me like the wizarding world did and that's the real reason I was kept there. Guess they thought my fame would go to my head. I don't see how being beaten within an inch of my life for burning breakfast at six was supposed to humble me and keep me from getting full of myself," he said, sighing deeply.
Narcissa shared a deeply meaningful look with her husband, and then saw the face peeking below the mask that Severus wore. He was obviously distressed by this revelation.
"Well, dear, you won't return to those awful people. I know we haven't exactly been on the same side, but you are staying here," she said, putting a hand on his where it lay on the bed.
Harry blinked at her. "What? You mean, you'd let me stay here? With you?"
"Of course. Now, get some rest, and I'll prepare one of the guest rooms for you tomorrow," she said, standing and leaving with Lucius. As they left, Severus handed him a dreamless sleep and within moments he was out again. He went into his own room for the night.
Once the couple got to the siting room they sat in silence for a while. "We can't let Dumbledore have him back," Narcissa said. "The boy has no business being involved in this war any more than Draco does."
Lucius nodded solemnly. "I know that, but what can we do?"
She shook her head. "We'll protect him, and we'll protect Draco. I will not lose my son to this war, and I won't see that boy put through more hell. He's had enough for no other reason than he survived when he should have died."
