Moonlight-blossom: Hey! Thanks for the reviews. Keep reviewing and I'll keep writing. I love you guys! School started yesterday! I'll try to keep updating regularly though.
Disclaimer: see chapter 1 (I don't have time for this)
Synopsis: Takes place right after Order of the Phoenix: Harry Potter had not had an easy school year and things were going to get even worse at Number Four Privet Drive.
Just to recap: Drake raced downstairs, stumbling in his haste. He stopped in front of the cupboard and yanked at the lock.
"Damn!"
Drake frantically scanned the room for something to pick the lock. Nothing. He rummaged through the drawer in the front hallway. He found a paperclip and quickly straightened it. Carefully he inserted it in the lock. Several seconds later he heard a click, and grinned triumphantly. Although slow, some muggle tricks, like this one, were useful.
He threw the door open and gaped open-mouthed at what he saw.
"POTTER."
On with the story!
Thoughts are in italics.
Summer Heat: Chapter 7There inside the cramped cupboard was the unconscious and crumpled form of a young man. Though his skin looked pasty and his eyes were ringed with black, it was unmistakable who he was. Harry Potter.
A look of disgust passed momentarily over Drake's face. Potter, God, what a sight. He smelled like a sty and had a haunted look about him.
Drake gingerly hauled him out of the tiny space and nearly gagged. How long had Potter been in there? Drake only felt a small sense of satisfaction to see him in this state, and he wondered vaguely why he didn't take more pleasure in his suffering. In a small corner of his mind he hoped that his rival wasn't dead.
Nearly choking, Drake dragged Harry up the stairs by the collar of his shirt. He tossed Harry into the bathtub like a sack of potatoes and turned on a blast of cold water.
Seconds later, Harry woke with a bloodcurdling scream and looked around frantically, his eyes wide with terror. His eyes settled on an unfamiliar figure kneeling at the edge of the tub.
"Who the hell are you?" he tried to say, but due to the long disuse of his voice, he only managed to make a hacking sort of sound in the back of his throat.
"Take a shower," Drake said walking out of the bathroom, "you desperately need it."
Harry didn't budge until he heard the door close. Then he pealed off his wet clothes and turned on the hot water. He let the water run over him as he washed away the days of dirt and grime. Half an hour later, he emerged fresh smelling and comfortably clean. Only then did he realize that he had no towel or clothes to wear. While he was contemplating what to do, Drake ducked in and threw a thick plush towel at him. Clothes quickly followed after.
Harry didn't stop to think, and hurriedly dried himself and put on his clothes. Boxers, a pair of loose pajama pants and a large t-shirt. He found Drake in the living room, comfortably lounging on the couch.
"Who-?" Harry tried to speak, but his voice stuck in his throat.
"Water?" asked Drake, offering a glass.
Harry took it, but looked at it suspiciously. Drake smirked, "It isn't poisonous," he said, sensing Harry's thoughts.
Harry sipped cautiously at the water, watching this stranger out of the corner of his eye. He still didn't trust him, whoever he may be.
"Uh-" Harry tried to speak again, but his tongue felt thick and it was hard to form words. He continued to stutter and stammer until he felt his voice gradually return.
He sat in the squashy chair opposite the couch, uneasy and jumpy. He still didn't trust his voice and instead studied the person in front of him.
Drake's hair was badly cut, very short, and a dull boring brown. His eyes, were, if possible, were even more boring. They were dead and reminded Harry of pools of mud. How could he ever have thought that this guy had reminded him of Draco? Nevertheless...there was something about him, something that unsettled Harry. That made him feel suspicious. Something deep within him still argued that this person was Draco.
Harry suddenly stood up, feeling slightly nauseas. Just being around him made him feel sick and uneasy. His stomach growled and Harry remembered he hadn't eaten in several days. He swayed on his feet as he turned away from Drake. He grabbed wildly for something to hold him up, but blacked out before he had the chance. He fell...and crashed into the coffee table. The glass smashed underneath him and cut through his back and arms. A single shard of glass imbedded itself deep within his cheek.
"Oh fuck," swore Drake, "what in hell did I do to deserve this?"
The coffee table was broken and Harry Potter was bleeding in the living room.
"Potter, as much as I'd love to leave you here to die, I've got work to do. I'll get my chance to kill you some other day," Drake said to Harry's unconscious form.
He picked up Harry's deadened body and carried him back up to his room.
"God, he's light, when was the last time he ate?" Drake wondered vaguely.
He laid Harry on his bed on his stomach and studied the cuts that littered his back and arms. Blood seeped out of the cuts but they didn't look too serious. Drake tore off the T-shirt and studied Harry's cuts. He couldn't help noticing his well-toned body, although very little food and his time in the cupboard gave him a pasty, pale look. He was thin, too thin. Most of his bones showed. Pale, pasty white skin. Jet black hair. Emerald green eyes. Streaks of red marred the skin. Drake studied the form lying before him, his eyebrows furrowed in irritation.
I can't kill him yet and I can't let him die, what the hell am I supposed to do?
Whatever he was supposed to do, cleaning him up so he couldn't bleed all over the place was a something he could do, Drake decided. Besides he couldn't let the Dursleys find out that he had discovered their horrible secret. They would start to suspect him. He couldn't have that.
Quickly, Drake took a cloth out of his trunk and went to soak it in cool water. He dabbed at the cuts with the damp cloth and they quickly stopped bleeding. They would heal in no time. He turned his attention to the ones on his arms. There was little left to do, he threw out the old t-shirt and put the new one on. He then flipped Harry onto his back. There was still the glass imbedded in his cheek.
Drake leant in, his face hovering a few inches above Harry's face. With gentle fingers, he tried to pull the glass out. Harry groaned in pain, and in surprise Drake jerked his hand up and the glass came free, along with a spurt of blood. He took the cloth and wiped away the rest of the blood.
He stood to let Harry rest but the sudden pain had torn him out of his sleep and he caught Drake's wrist in a grip which was surprisingly strong in his weakened state.
"I know who you are."
Moonlight-blossom: sorry about that, I thought I'd have the chapter up sooner. I'll try to have the next chapter up by sometime this weekend. Thanks for the reviews guys! I love every single one of you.