Disclaimer: Must I repeat myself? No, not mine. If they were, then I'd be rolling in money and working hard on the fifth book. ::hint, hint JKR::
Author's Note: Just in case any of you wonder about the broken collar bone on this next chapter: Draco's dad snapped the front half of his collar bone so that the broken edge was pressing against his skin. When he gets hit again, it slices through the skin. When you break your collarbone, you essentially can't move that arm, or turn your head cause it moves the broken bone. So, just keep in mind that the bone is aimed forwards, sticking out about an inch…that is the medical update for this chapter. Read and review, as always. (Mitigated = relieved)
Draco froze as he felt the hand clap down on him. Great plan, he thought, frantically trying to think of a better plan other than just trying to blindly run away screaming like a banshee. He stood rigid, facing the cupboard where Harry was crouched in.
"I asked you a question! ANSWER ME!" Dursley roared, and knocked Draco forward into the cupboard.
Draco wasn't standing directly in front of the cupboard, so when Vernon shoved him, he hit his collar on the frame. His injured collarbone, which he had come to realize, was damaged to the point of pressing against the surface of the skin in a rather disgusting looking bump.
Draco slammed against the doorframe and screamed automatically as he saw the white bone pop out of his skin, aimed precariously at his own neck.
He collapsed on the ground, gasping in great heaves to control the pain erupting from his shoulder. In the pain-filled haze, he barely noticed a dark blur lunging out of the cupboard at the monster named Vernon.
***
Harry hurtled out of the cupboard, a fury welling inside of him making him forget whatever aches and pains he had.
"Don't touch him!" Harry screamed, clasping a thin but unexpectedly powerful hand around his uncle's fat neck.
It didn't matter who he was talking about, because the person Vernon just hit had been trying to help him. Like Cedric. His enemy had hurt them because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time…because of him. It couldn't and it wouldn't happen again.
Before he knew what he was saying, the word was out of his mouth. "Crucio!" Although he didn't have his wand, he was angry enough to be able to use magic without it. Dark Magic.
Vernon began to convulse, slamming his head against the floor in a fit of pain until blood began to ooze from his skull and his eyes rolled back in his head like he was possessed. A strange sense of giddiness came over him. He was glad to see his tormentor bent to his mercy…and then, quite suddenly, he wasn't so glad.
What was he doing? This wasn't him…this was someone else…this was the person Voldemort wanted him to be…a heartless murderer. "Finite Incantatem," he whispered hoarsely. He'd used an Unforgivable Curse…he was going to be sent to Azkaban like his godfather.
Vernon had stopped twitching and was lying perfectly still; the only sign of life was the almost undetectable rise and fall of his chest. Then where was the gasping coming from? He jerked in startled realization…it was him that was gasping like that.
Harry was suddenly aware of a third presence, a hand gently on his arm.
"Potter…Harry, we've got to get out of here. If he comes round I doubt we'll have another chance," a soft voice said. It wasn't a comforting soft; it was terrified and awed soft. They were terrified of him.
A scream woke him out of his thoughts.
"OH MY GOD! VERNON!" It was Aunt Petunia. She had come downstairs to investigate and found her nephew standing over what looked like her dead husband.
"Get away from him, you freak! I'm calling the police! You're going straight to prison, you miserable little monster!" She aimed a slap at Harry's face but received a nasty shock herself.
Harry snatched her wrist before she could deliver the blow in midair. "Monster, yes. But I'm not going to prison." He shoved his aunt to the ground, not looking at her like a person. She was like Wormtail. A coward that ran when they were needed. His head was suddenly filled with violent images of his relatives screaming in agony, bleeding away their life and begging him to stop…just like he'd done.
No…his parents wouldn't want him to become a murderer for these pathetic excuses of human life. Harry dropped his hand; not really aware he had raised it with the thought of the Killing Curse on his tongue.
He turned and grabbed the friend's hand. Harry didn't care who it was. He grabbed their hand and dragged them with him out the front door and down the steps, past Privet Drive and down the street to Magnolia Crescent.
The person behind him was begging him to stop.
Draco finally managed to break through Harry's craze and the smaller boy stopped, looking confused.
"What?" he said.
Malfoy slumped to the ground, pressing his palm against the bleeding of his shoulder. Harry had grabbed the wrong arm and the bone had been ripping through his skin with every step.
"I can't run. Don't make me," Draco gasped, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to focus on something else.
"What else are we going to do? They're going to call the cops and they'll take us back. And that can't happen. I know I'll kill Vernon next time I see him…" Harry suddenly started laughing.
"What the hell is so funny? And what are cops?" Draco asked, annoyed that Potter found this so highly amusing.
Still laughing, he replied, "Vernon, vermin…hehehe…cops are Muggle police."
"What's so funny about Vernon, vermin?" Draco snapped. The blood was beginning to soak down his chest. Draco supposed the joke had something to do with shock. "We need to get somewhere else. Anywhere where there are no Muggles would be fine. Is there any place like that?"
Harry collapsed in another fit of laughter. "Look around you!" he practically screamed, "We're in the middle of Wizarding HELL! Muggles from here to King's Cross! And we have no wands!" He laughed again, then paused. "Do you have your wand?"
"No. I left too quickly to grab it," Draco grumbled, finally standing. "Can't you just use the Summoning Charm?"
"Cause I need my wand to do magic. But…what the hell." Harry raised his hand and half-heartedly commanded "Accio wand!" He waited a split second before his wand zoomed into his hand. "I'll be damned," Harry muttered. "Now what do I do with it?"
"Have you gone mad! Call the Knight Bus!" Draco demanded.
"Oh. Right." Harry raised his wand and the Knight Bus hurtled into view, screeching to a stop in front of the two injured boys.
"All aboard!" the driver said cheerily.
As the two climbed on, the driver clucked his tongue. "What happened to you guys?" He floored the bus forwards.
"We got into a fight, but we're fine," Draco said hurriedly.
The driver nodded knowingly. "So then…where to?"
Draco blanched. "Um…" he nudged Harry. "Can we go to the Weasleys?"
"I don't see why not…kinda late though, isn't it?" Harry answered, staring straight ahead without blinking.
Draco had done an effective job at hiding bone protruding from his shoulder by keeping himself turned away from the driver. "To the Weasleys," he said.
The driver nodded in response and put on an extra spurt of speed.
After a few minutes, he finally turned to Harry who was still staring blankly out the window.
"How did you do that?" Draco asked. He was somewhat shocked that a fifteen-year-old could perform the Cruciatus Curse, let alone one without a wand. Even more shocking was the fact it was 'Perfect' Potter who did it; and the look he wore when he watched his uncle in agony on the floor looked so much like Voldemort's, it terrified even him.
"Do what?" Harry replied mechanically.
"Do that Dark Magic. Without your wand."
"I can do magic without my wand when I'm really angry. I guess Dark Magic cause I was hell bent on revenge."
The answer would've been funny had Harry not replied so sincerely.
"You do magic when you're mad?"
"Sometimes. I get in trouble for it though." Harry shuddered. "It's cold."
Draco raised an eyebrow. The summer night must have been at least ninety degrees and Potter was complaining of the cold? He knew enough about injuries to know that it was shock, same as when Harry had begun to laugh when he realized how bad the situation was.
"Harry," he said firmly. Potter still didn't look at him. He was beginning to shiver and as Harry tucked his legs up under his chin, Draco could see the wounds inflicted by the cane were still bleeding freely. "Harry," Draco said again, reaching out to grab Potter's chin and forced him to look him in the eye. "Focus. You're going to go into a coma or something, so stop it." Like he's gonna listen to that, Draco berated. "Think of something really outstanding in your memory. Something good, Potter. What's you favorite memory?"
"You as the amazing bouncing ferret," Harry replied, smiling serenely.
Malfoy smiled. "Can't say I agree, but it works. Just think of that for a while."
It wasn't very long before the Knight Bus screeched to a halt, almost throwing Malfoy and Harry onto the floor.
"The Burrow!" the driver cheerily announced. "You two going to be okay?"
"We'll be fine," Draco said with more conviction than he felt. He steered Potter in front of him and down the steps onto the Weasleys' lawn. With a loud bang the Knight Bus had disappeared again.
Malfoy suddenly realized how bad this was going to look on his part. Arriving in the middle of the night on the Weasleys' lawn, a family that hated him and his own family, with a wounded Harry Potter on the verge of a mental collapse.
This is going to be splendid… "Come on, Potter. One foot in front of the other…yes, good. You still remember how to walk. Let's see if you remember how to talk so you can talk your way in here, cause if they attack me, I'm telling my father where they can find you…" Draco grumbled insincerely. They had reached the steps of the very tall, very crooked looking house that looked like it was in danger of collapsing on itself. Stray chickens were snoozing in muddled heaps on the lawn, and Draco swore he say a garden gnome watching from beneath the begonia. He swallowed and raised his hand to knock on the door. He got out one soft knock before the door was flung open wide, revealing a short, plump, and extremely haggard looking woman: Mrs. Weasley.
"Oh my…Harry! What happened?" she cried, immediately embracing Potter in what looked to be a suffocating hug.
Malfoy suddenly felt very much the third wheel and took a step backwards.
The entire Weasley family was seated in the small kitchen, minus Bill and Charlie (whom Malfoy expected were still at their various jobs) looking extremely relieved at finding Harry on their doorstep, far from being dead. Everyone was so mitigated, that no one even noticed or cared who had brought him to them, and Malfoy felt another pang of jealousy. Potter might not have his own loving family, but he had an adopted one that was better than Malfoy's own. However, his invisibility to the situation was short lived.
It was one of the Weasley twins who noticed him first. Which one, no one knew.
"You!" he cried, glaring at Malfoy. "What did you do?"
Malfoy looked over, startled someone actually saw him. "Nothing!"
"I suppose you just happened to find him like this, eh?" the twin shot back.
"I didn't touch him, all right! I had nothing to do with that," Draco protested, taking another step backwards.
The twins obviously saw it as a guilt retreat to escape punishment for what he did (or did not do), and advanced on him. One reached out and grabbed Malfoy's shoulder to prevent him from further disappearing into the darkness. It wasn't even a threatening gesture, just a restraint; but the twin had grabbed the wrong shoulder (just like everyone else…) and pressed on the broken bone. Malfoy opened his mouth to scream, but couldn't. Instead, all that escaped was a soft "oh" of surprise, and he collapsed forwards into the Weasley doorway, unconscious.
You know the drill. Review. Oh, and for those of you who were wondering, no this is not slash. Ice Queen doesn't read it, and has not, is not, and will not write it.