Title: The Unknown Malfoy

Rating: M

Warnings: AU, OOC, Evil Dumbledore, violence

Disclaimer: I swear I make no profit from this, and do not own Harry Potter, if i did, i wouldn't have to work anymore.

Chapter 1

Harry stared at himself in the bathroom mirror, still not used to how he had changed in the week since he had turned sixteen. His hair had turned blonde and manageable, almost over night, getting him beaten by the Dursleys, and the bars had been put back on his windows, and he had been locked in his room ever since, the meals coming through the cat flap at the bottom of his door. He was hungry, and he had run out of the small amount of food he had been giving, so he was sure he would get thinner still. His features, already frail, had gained an almost feminine hint to them, as well as the general shape of his body.

He had had the thought that morning that he was beginning to look slightly like Malfoy, but he told himself that he was sure that he was imagining it. He had probably just lost control of his magic again. Not like that never happened.

Shuffling out of the bathroom, he passed his glaring aunt, and was then locked in his room again. He stared up at the ceiling, and the image of his godfather, falling into the veil, flashed behind his eyes. He rolled over, burying his head in his pillow.

He let the tears flow, and he felt the pain. He'd been telling himself that it wasn't his fault, it was Voldemort's, but he couldn't believe it. Another urge to cry washed over him as he remembered that Lucius Malfoy had been released from Azkaban almost immediately because of a technicality. He didn't blame Malfoy, he just was sad that Draco still had his father, while he didn't.

Thinking back to when he had refused Draco's friendship, he felt a pang of regret. He had become painfully aware that he had good friends, but that he had in all likely hood been turned against the blonde boy before they had met. Sadly, Harry gazed at his owl, sleeping in her cage on his desk. He had let her out the previous night, and wouldn't be able to until the next. Sighing, he went back to trying to clear his mind, a faint attempt to practice the Occlumency Professor Snape had tried to teach him the previous year.

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Harry had finished all of his homework, and had nothing to do. He had listened to Vernon leave for the day, and now, late afternoon, Harry heard the front door close, as his Aunt Petunia left to go shopping for some food item that Dudley had begged her to get. Not long after, Harry heard snickering outside his door, and knew that something was wrong. He heard the locks being pulled back and undone. He sat up, and watched as Dudley and two of his friends stepped into Harry's room. Harry watched in growing fear as they walked toward him, making a half circle around where Harry sat on his bed, too weak to move. He hadn't eaten since the previous day's breakfast of some dry cereal in a plastic bowl.

"So, how are you feeling today, freak?" Dudley grinned at him. "You feeling tough, now that you're godfather is dead?"

Harry didn't react to the insult. He could still feel the bruise on his side from where he had been hit the previous week. Harry was also sore from the way he had changed, and so had no strength too fight back against his whale of a cousin.

"What do you want, Dudley?" he asked tiredly. And then he was seeing stars, as the first punch connected with his temple.

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The can of cold soup was pushed through the cat flap, but Harry didn't have the strength to look up, or move to get it. No one would come to check on him till the next day, since Dudley had supposedly been brave and let him out to use the bathroom. Now he coughed, the action making his lungs burn, and he felt a gurgling in his lungs, as he looked blearily at the blood on his hand he assumed was from his torn lip. He couldn't shift from his position on the floor, he thought he probably had some broken bones, and maybe some other problems. His vision swam, and he could only gaze at the wall that was opposite the door.

His mind only vaguely registered the sound of Vernon shouting downstairs, and his locks being pulled back. Harry vaguely wondered if he had supposedly done something that annoyed his relatives again. He was drifting into a state of half consciousness, when he felt himself being lifted, the pain causing him to cry out. He had a vague sensation of moving, the arms holding onto him delicately.

'Maybe the Order has me. Or I'm being taken to Voldemort. Ha ha. That would be interesting. Wonder what he'd do to me?' Harry wondered as he drifted off into unconsciousness.

AN: Sorry, I probably wont have a beta, and chapters may come at odd times. Give me feedback please!