Pairings in this chapter: Slight Tom/Harry, Draco/Harry
Disclaimer: Not mine. Not getting money. I wish.
Chapter 6 : No One Knew Me
"Woo-hoo!" Harry cried as he slid across the perfectly waxed floor, his shoes thrown off into a corner. Tom threw himself after and let out a bark of laughter. A short dive and Harry flew across the room again on his knees, stopping perfectly before the doorway. It was a good thing, for in front of him stood a pair of feet. Harry slowly looked up from the black boots to medium brown pants, dirt stains on the knees, up to a white shirt rolled up to the elbow and then to a pale face with very light hair and gray eyes.
"Hello, Potter," the boy said with a smirk. Harry got up and dusted himself off before grinning at the other boy.
"Hello," he said cheerfully. "Do I know you?"
"Oh, son of Lucius!" Tom cried, cutting off any remark the silvery haired boy might have made. Instead, Harry watched as the boy's eyes grew large. Tom circled about Harry, moving his face close to the boy. "And how are we today, Draco?"
"Fine," the boy choked out in surprise.
"Draco? That's your name?" Harry asked, blinking. "Cool! That means Dragon, right?"
"Of course it does, Potter! Are you trying to convince me that you're an idiot? Because you really don't have to try so hard," Draco sneered. Harry stared at him. Apparently, this Draco liked him about as much as Professor Snape did. He sighed softly and turned around, walking away from the boy to stare out a window. Draco raised a brow at the action. Usually, Potter was at his neck by then. He glanced at the ghostly image of Tom Riddle, who had been looking after Potter and was now smirking again at him, and frowned. A ghost couldn't hurt him. Even poltergeists had their limits. "The hell's with him?"
Tom snickered and clasped his hands behind his back. "Oh, he's just a wee bit sensitive. Killing me has that affect on people."
"I'm sure," Draco snorted. Snape had said not to bother the other boy, but Draco had been itching for a fight for months now. Potter had always been his best stress reliever. Through his last five years of life, Potter had been his one constant. The only thing that stayed the same. It was this need for constancy that drove Draco to walk to the window. "So, Potter…Had any nightmares lately? Maybe your godfather again? Or maybe ickle Potty-kins was dreaming of his parents again…?"
Harry turned to stare at the other boy, eyes wide and confused.
"Godfather…? Parents…?" He blinked his eyes and frowned. "Why would I dream of them? And…"
He stopped and realization went over his face. Draco watched this in confusion. What the hell was with Potter?! During the silence, Tom glided to them, his smirking eyes taking in the whole scene.
"Why aren't my parents here?" Harry asked aloud, tapping his chin with a frown. "Mr. Dumbledore and Professor Snape haven't mentioned anything about them and I never thought to ask…"
"Potter, have you gone daft?!" Draco exclaimed. "Your parents are dead!"
"…Dead?" Harry's voice was small, his eyes wide, and his body began trembling. Draco watched in sick fascination as the other boy's face slowly turned with sorrow, shoulders shaking with emotion he refused to show to anyone. "H-how? And…and when?"
"Voldemort, you git," Draco responded quietly. "Took Avada Kedarvas and skipped off the mortal plane. Don't you remember?"
"No," whispered the other boy, head dropped to hide his eyes. "I-I don't remember… anything… Not my parents… Not you, or Professor Snape, or Mr. Dumbledore, or those relatives I'm suppose to have, or all the people that sent me get well cards…I don't remember…My parents are dead…?"
Draco only stared at the boy. Suddenly, everything began to click in his head. An opportunity was put before him. One that could be very satisfying. Slowly, his lips pulled into a vicious smirk.
"You really don't remember anything, do you?" he purred. Harry looked up at him, eyes shining with tears he refused to let go. He knew that kind of voice. It was the one Tom used so often. That confident tone of rumbling sound… Just hearing it sent shivers down his spine, just like Tom's touches.
"No," responded the black haired boy.
"Not me?"
"No," he repeated. The look on Draco's face intimidated him. It was as if Draco wanted to gobble him up on the spot. The thought only made him more uncomfortable.
"Oh, you wound me," Draco purred, stepping closer. "Being forgotten so easily…Really, Harry, I expected better from you."
"I'm sorry," Harry said, panicking some. Draco laughed softly and reached over to stroke his cheek.
"It's all right. I'll just have to shower you with new memories…Better memories…"
Behind them, Tom watched with growing anger. His smirk had disappeared and a frown formed on his ghostly face. The ghost knew exactly what was going on, and it wasn't according to his plan. With a sneer he made sure Draco saw, he faded from visibility and left them alone.
Draco smirked before looking back to Harry's face. The shorter boy was so innocent looking…It made Draco want to kick him repeatedly. But now…now he had such an opportunity…He would make Potter pay. Oh, how he would pay…Draco didn't care that the war was over, that his father was murdered by Aurors or that his mother commited suicide, leaving him with no one to impress. He didn't care that his duties as a spy, much like his godfather, were over. No, none of this mattered. What mattered was that the boy before him, the boy that had spurned his friendship and had been such a rival, was the most vulnerable he would ever get. Draco had never been one to let something like this slide, not when it could yield such…interesting results.
"Draco?" Harry asked quietly, eyes never leaving the other's face.
"Yes?" responded the silvery haired boy.
"Were we….close?"
The boy's smirk widened. "Oh yes… Very close."
"How close?"
Draco's hand moved from Harry's cheek to the back of his head, fingers running through the surprisingly soft black strands. He leaned forward, pausing as he felt the shorter boy's breath upon his face. The other boy jerked back in surprise, but didn't get far before Draco closed the last small distance between them. Harry's cry was muffled by soft lips upon his own.
At once, the black haired boy's world shattered as his eyes flew wider, body rigid in the blonde's arms. His breath stopped, caught in his throat. His mind exploded into sound and pictures, shooting through his consciousness. He wasn't aware that Draco had let go, nor that he'd fallen to his knees, head fallen back and mouth open as his scream reverberated through the mansion. He saw the purple face man leering over him, felt his wrists clamped within one beefy hand as pain struck up his spine. He was being ripped apart! Ripped apart! Stop it stop it stopitstopitstopitOH GOD IT HURTS!
"NOOOOOOOOOO! NO, STOP IT! DON'T HURT ME! I'M SORRY! SORRY! SORRY! NOOOO!!! DON'T HURT ME, NO! DON'T! NOT THERE! NO! PLEASE-"
"HARRY!-" Snape's voice screamed over the sound but Harry couldn't understand him as the purple faced man filled his entire consciousness. He felt the hands at his shoulders, shaking him, but it was only the purple faced man. Only him, laughing at his weakness.
"STOPITSTOPITSTOPIT! HURTS! NOOO! NOOO! UNCLE, NO!"
And then it went away in a flash of light. Harry's body collapsed into Snape's arms. Draco stared at the still, pale body of the boy he'd grown up hating. The boy that, though he remembered none of it, was in more pain than he could imagine. Draco had never been struck in his life, other than at school or by Ryliatin. It seemed that Potter was a different matter.
"Rylia, you didn't have to stun him," Snape's voice said, knocking Draco from his reverie. He lifted his eyes to meet the short form at the door, her arm still outstretched. Her wavy black hair fell into her face, only a few strands of it staying behind her cattish ears. Her long tail was puffed out in annoyance and her black eyes unreadable.
"I heard muscles snapping," the catlike creature muttered, walking forward to set her hand on Harry's forehead. "It was the fastest solution, Severus."
"But not the brightest," Snape snapped. Ryliatin glared back, her eyes turning violet around the slit pupils.
"Whatever," she mumbled offhandedly. "He's fine. Needs a healing potion for the muscle tears though."
Snape muttered to himself darkly as he got up, Harry's small body held in his arms as if he weighed nothing. Now that Draco got a good look at the boy, he was surprised Harry was even standing. His body was incredibly thin, skin pale stretched tight. The skin under his eyes was especially different, violet from both nightmare plagued dreams and his long stay in the sick ward. His black hair had been left uncut for a long while, the strands reaching his jaw and bangs tickling his nose. Harry didn't look seventeen years old. He looked barely fourteen, face still childishly proportioned. Draco couldn't guess how he'd ever missed it all.
"Ryliatin, you're to watch Potter for the rest of the summer. Keep him healthy and watch to make sure no harm comes to him," Snape growled at the cattish female. She waved a dismissive hand.
"I planned on it, Master Severus. Now put him somewhere so I can start watching him," she replied in a haughty tone. Obviously, the title of Master meant little to her. Draco stayed where he was while the other two left. He turned to stare out the window, frowning as he remembered the look on Potter's face when he'd kissed him. That pure and unadulterated terror…
He didn't want to cause that again. Draco loved messing with people's minds, but he was not so cruel as to jab wounds that deep. As he leaned back against the window sill, he thought about Potter and the reactions…It was obvious the other boy didn't consciously remember anything…but just as much that he did, in some part of his mind, remember some things.
"Leave the boy be," a voice hissed behind him. Draco glanced back and smirked at Tom's spirit, angry as it was.
"And if I don't?"
Before he could blink, the ghost's cold hand was clasped about his throat, surprisingly solid and strong. Draco tried to get a breath, his lungs beginning to burn as Tom stared back at him.
"Or I'll kill you, Son of Lucius," the ghost snarled. "Potter is mine, do you hear me? I will be the one to have him…I will be the one to break him…Understand?"
Draco uttered a sound of comprehension, his vision beginning to blacken. Tom let go and glared as Draco fell to the ground gasping, disgust upon his ghostly face.
A/N: Hm. How amusing... I have only a small idea of where this fic is actually going. It's plot is pretty simple so I can add just about anything...
Anywho, hope you enjoyed. Not much to write...Bah.
Damn you all.