An Unlikely Ally

Harry was flabbergasted, no, horrified at what "he" had done.

Though he has always despised the Slytherin, no one deserved the way he had treated Draco; and worse still, what did he do while he was IN Hogwarts? While he was sure Voldemort wouldn't triumph against Dumbledore, Harry shuddered at the thought of letting Voldemort meet his two best mates.

Guilt engulfed Harry, he turned away from senior Malfoy.

Harry didn't know how to deal with this. No, he grew up in the muggle world. For eleven years, the cupboard at Dursley's was his home. It was small and cramped but things were familiar; and then he learned that he belonged in another world that's completely different where common sense could not apply... Harry could not fathom what will happen to him. Dumbledore's not around to guide him, even Hermione would have a better idea of what's going on.

After whispering a soft request for Lucius Malfoy to give him some time alone, he fell onto the bed behind him.

His luxurious surrounding disgusted him. Harry wanted to burn it all down, but he had to hold back and remind himself, repeatedly, that everything before him belonged to the Malfoys, not the Dark Lord. From the way he treated Draco and disheveled state of Lucius, they've suffered under Voldemort's tyranny more than enough.

Lucius didn't leave, the aristocrat watched Harry almost stonily as he stood in the room.

Harry ignored his audience, he squeezed his eyes shut and screamed into his head.

COME OUT! ANSWER ME! VOLDEMORT!

There was no response, his mind felt as silent as the room. Harry felt silly doing it, but he persisted nonetheless.

After many episodes of shouting at himself, Harry realized from Malfoy Senior's expression that he must have raged at Voldemort out loud.

It was pointless, Voldemort had probably moved back to his own body already, perhaps in a few moments the Dark Lord would charge through the door and end Harry with a killing curse.

He waited, and waited. Harry was almost a little disappointed when no one came.

Lucius continued to stand there silently. The tick of the clock was becoming painfully loud for Harry. Realizing the implications of his situation, Harry grabbed a fistful of his hair and tore at it. At the same time, Lucius swopped down on him to restrain him.

"Let me go! People suffered at my hands! I need to get rid of myself! Right now!" Harry struggled against Malfoy Senior's hold, twisting his body under Malfoy Senior, kicking and throwing punches.

Harry did not know who or what was receiving his punches. He was hurting everywhere, sharp pain drilled into his mind as Harry kept thrashing about violently.

Lucius grunted in pain as another fist landed on him. He used his own weight to seize Harry, who continued to squirm. It was good that he decided to stay and stop Harry Potter in case the boy wants to kill himself.

After a long while, Harry became more and more subdued until he laid on the bed painting.

The bed was a mess. The sheets wrinkled; one pillow landed on the other side of the room, another cracked open, its feathery content spilt all over the bed.

"Harry?" Concerned, Lucius waved his hands in front of Harry Potter's glassy eyes.

The boy suddenly screamed to the ceiling, "I TOTURED PEOPLE, I'M A MONSTER!" His voice broke at the last word; hot tears rolled down his cheeks as the boy began to sob.

Lucius didn't speak, he regarded Harry with weary eyes. He climbed off the boy hesitantly.

This time, Harry did not move from his position. Instead, the boy rolled over and buried his face into the bed as he continued to cry into the sheets.

Lucius waited beside the bed patiently. After a while, the sobbing quietened down.

Lucius wondered if he should leave to give Harry Potter sometime to digest the information. The boy turned over. He simply laid on the bed, eyes glazed and void. The Boy-Who-Lived had begun to mutter something under his breath. Lucius had to lean toward him just to catch a few words like "killer", "monster", "same as Voldemort".

"Harry, Harry," the boy continued to ignore him, fixated on his mumbling.

"Are you done?" Malfoy Senior said to him calmly. When there was no response, he continued, "then it's my turn."

A blow landed on Harry's cheek, his mind reeled. His cheek throbbed where it had made impact with Malfoy Senior's fist a second ago, the part of his face that had been scraped by Lucius Malfoy's ring stung terribly, but Harry felt numb inside. He closed his eyes and laid limply on the bed, tears continued to flow down his temple steadily.

Part of him wished that Lucius Malfoy could grant him a swift death so he could at least-

"Get a grip on yourself, kid!" Malfoy Senior growled at him in a low voice, he grasped Harry's collar roughly and hauled him into a sitting position. Harry stared at the man before him blankly.

"Those things have already happened. You can either go kill yourself over something you didn't do, or you can compensate and save the future. If the Dark Lord is really inside you," they both shuddered involuntarily at the suggestion, "then make use of his power!"

Harry gawked at the aristocrat uncomprehendingly. Lucius Malfoy sighed, his shoulders slumped in the most defeated manner Harry had ever seen.

The two people, man and boy, stared at each other in silence. After a while, Malfoy Senior shifted uncomfortably.

"I'll help you, whichever choice you make." Without waiting for Harry's response, Lucius walked out the room.

No longer proud and tall, the only thing left for Harry to see was the back of a dejected father who has failed his own son.

Author's Note: Well, the opening weekend for the museum I volunteer at is tomorrow. Since it's a long weekend, I might be there every day, so I apologize in advance if I'm not able to update in a timely manner. Anyhow, thanks for reading! :)