Title: In Too Deep (1/?)
Author: Sticks and Stones
E-mail: sticks_and_stones101@yahoo.com
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me. Sorry.
Warning: Slash, some violence later on, I guess . . . rated R to be safe
Summary: (Slash) Draco dreams of Harry being kidnapped by an anit-Voldemort, anti-Muggle faction and awakes to see the same incident described in the morning paper. Will Draco come forth with what he knows and help Harry?
Prologue: The Stage is Set
Harry Potter lay awake in his bed listening to the soft pitter-patter of rain striking the roof of the house at 4 Privet Drive. His room was practically pitch black, with the gray storm clouds blanketing the moon. Only brief, bright flashes of lightning allowed Harry any sort of visualization. The rain wasn't soothing, as it usually was, and for some reason, he couldn't sleep that night.
Maybe it was because . . .
His eyes shifted to his clock. It was two minutes past twelve, and he was now sixteen.
Harry rolled over onto his back and sighed heavily. He could expect a few owls carrying gifts from his friends in the morning. Not that he meant to sound ungrateful, but it looked as if it was to be another average birthday for Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived.
* Thump, thump, thump. *
Or maybe not.
Harry froze. What was that sound? His heart skipped a beat. Someone, or something, was on the roof of the house. His mind whirled, and the first thought that flew into his mind was, 'Death Eaters'. Were they finally coming for him?
It seemed to be that way because, before Harry could act, a blast of chilly autumn air blew into the room as his window slid open. One, two, three thumps came again, the sound from three sets of heavy boots coming in contact with his floor.
Harry almost shivered from the cold, yet forced himself to lay deathly still as the Death Eaters approached his bed. Mentally, he cursed. His wand was locked up in the cupboard, thanks to his uncle, and he was therefore unable to defend himself. What was he going to do now? He couldn't let the Death Eaters just take him.
Harry Potter did not give up without a fight.
"On the count of three, Zaigon," rasped one of the Death Eaters, "I want you to grab him. One . . . two-"
Harry suddenly lurched up, flinging is pillow and blankets at the Death Eaters. He scrambled out of bed and ran over to the door, yanking it open and running down the hallway.
"GET HIM!!" one of them shouted, taking off after him.
Dudley poked his head out of his room and his aunt and uncle emerged from their own. "Get out of here!!" shouted Harry, pausing for just a moment. "They'll kill you if you don't GET OUT NOW!!"
His uncle glared at him. "What the hell are you . . ."
"Avada Kedavra!!" shouted Harry's three attackers simultaneously, each of them pointing their wand at one of the Dursleys.
Harry's stomach rolled as the screams of the only family he had left filled the house. There was no way that he could save them now- they had to be dead. He kept on running with the front door in sight. After he got there, then what? He hadn't really thought that far ahead . . .
He had just neared the stairs when one of the Death Eaters suddenly cried, "FLIPENDO!!"
Harry cried out in surprise as his feet disappeared from underneath him and he tumbled headfirst down the stairs, landing hard flat on his back after his head struck the last step. He tried to get up, but only succeeded in falling back down onto the floor when his leg gave in. His leg was broken, or maybe just sprained, but either way, it didn't matter. He was never going to be able to escape with an injured leg AND a big welt on the back of his head.
The three Death eaters descended the stairs and stood over Harry. One of them bent down on one knee to examine him. Harry could barely see the man's face with his vision swimming from the fall, but could tell that he'd never seen the man before in his life.
"Good job, Katilia!" said the Death Eater bent over him in a tone of voice heavily lace with sarcasm. "You could've killed him, you know."
"Well, we've got him, don't we?" snickered Katilia. The voice was soft, but a bit husky, and Harry figured Katilia to be a woman. "Just pick up the boy, Vai, and take him to headquarters. Zaigon and I will get his things."
As Vai began to pick him up, Harry tried to slither away, despite his throbbing leg. "Hold . . . still!" exclaimed the Death Eater.
Zaigon chuckled. "Can't even contain a kid, Vai? Wait 'til the boss hears about this- you'll be demoted for sure."
Vai muttered something under his breath and pointed his wand at Harry. "Stupefy!"
Harry knew no more.
*~*
Draco Malfoy woke up with a start, his hand immediately flying up to his heart. It was slamming wildly in his chest, and it felt as if his lungs were on fire. His body was drenched in sweat despite the cool temperature in the room. He raised a shaking hand to wipe his forehead with the back of his hand. Shit . . . He took in several deep breaths before he began to calm down.
Draco looked around his room, just to make sure that he was really, truly, actually there. Everything seemed to be in order . . . everything was just the way he'd left it the night before.
Then what had that dream- no, nightmare, been about? Why on earth had he dreamt of Harry Potter (of all people . . . Draco made a face . . . yuck . . .) being kidnapped in the dead of night? He shook his head and ran a hand though his hair. No way that could've actually happened. Like Dumbledore would let anything happen to his Golden Boy. The Headmaster probably has guards set up all around Potter's place or something to prevent anyone who doesn't belong from coming in. It was just a dream, nothing but a stupid dream . . .
But the realistic-ness of the whole thing bothered him. He had seen the fear written all over Potter's pale, bony little face, could almost taste it, and had witnessed his pain when he'd taken that nasty fall down the stairs. It was almost as if . . . he had BEEN there, and maybe had been Harry himself for a little while. It was a little scary . . .
But so not true. Perfect Potter is probably sitting in his cozy home curled up next to the fire, dreaming of the Mudblood Granger. So why am I still thinking about it? Hmm . . . I really don't know . . .
Draco got out of bed and yawned, then went over to the window and pulled back the drapes, expecting the sun to pour into the room to lighten up his spirit a bit. But there was no sun- only heavy, dark, ominous rain clouds. He shivered. A realization flashed though the back of his mind, startling him. Had it been raining last night? It was raining in his dream . . .
Fuck it! It's just a freaking coincidence, a BIG FREAKIN' coincidence! He whirled around and stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. Draco quickly stripped, dropping his black silky pajama bottoms to the floor. He leaned over the to turn on the shower, and noticed a bruise on his leg. He stared down at it, then hesitantly poked at it with his finger.
NOT a wise move.
"OUCH!! SHIT, SHIT, SHIT, THAT HURT!!!" he yelled. Draco glared down at his leg.
Now, unless he was going crazy, that bruise hadn't been there the night before. He would've noticed something so big and purple and . . . bloody painful.
Wait a minute . . . didn't Potter hurt his leg? Draco's mouth fell open in shock. Yes, he remembered . . . Potter had fallen down the stairs and busted up his leg.
Okay, now this was getting serious. Potter's pathetic-ness was now affecting him personally, and he didn't like it one bit. What in the world was going on?
Draco rushed out of the bathroom butt naked and quickly dressed, then left his room and down the long, long hallway. He went down the stairs carefully- his bruise was still smarting from that poke. Once he reached the bottom, he bit his bottom lip. Visions of Potter lying flat on his back at the foot of the stairs, his ugly face twisted up in pain, clouded Draco's mind. Argh! Why won't Potter leave me alone?!
He stopped just outside of a huge wooden door to compose himself before walking into the dining room where his father already sat, muttering underneath his breath about something in the newspaper that lay unfolded before him. His mother sat all the way on the other end of the table, quietly sipping on her tea. She sent him a warning glance, then looked significantly at his father.
I wonder what's wrong? "Good morning, mother, father," he said brightly after kissing his mother's cheek and taking his place at the table.
His father looked up and glared. "Is it really, son? A good morning?"
Draco raised an eyebrow but didn't say a thing.
Lucius got up and slowly crossed the room, taking the newspaper with him. Draco sat still, watching him as he moved. What is he getting at? His eyes narrowed. "I don't like to play games father. You know that. Just get to the point."
His father slammed the morning paper down on the table in front of Draco. "Tell me what you think of this."
Draco sighed heavily and muttered, "I really don't see what could be so . . . bloody . . . impor . . ." His eyes drifted down to the paper. " . . . the fuck?!"
In big, bold print, on the front page of the paper was 'The Boy Who Lived- Kidnapped'.
Author's Note: Short, yes, but only because it's the first chapter. Anyway, please push the button down there and review.