Everything I'm Not

by Laureen

SLASH Post HBP. Draco has failed in his mission and his life is forfeit, so he goes the one place no one will look for him Harry’s. Here he sees that life is not as he expected for TheBoyWhoLived, and when things go too far he steps in to save the boy he

2. Down on Luck

Title: Everything I'm Not

Rating: M for graphic violence.

Summary: Post HBP. Draco has failed in his mission and his life is forfeit, so he goes the one place no one will look for him; Harry's. Here he sees that life is not as he expected for The-Boy-Who-Lived, and when things go to far he steps in to save the boy he once thought was his enemy.

Warnings: This fan fiction includes: slash, m/m, Harry/Draco, abuse, graphic violence, non-consensual incest, and mild pedophilia. There will be some very dark stuff here. If you don't like the above, or cannot stomach them please do not read. This is, simply, your last warning. All flames and hate-mail/reviews will be promptly ignored. Thank you very much.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is © J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, Scholastic Books, Bloomsbury Books, and all other entities involved in the Potterverse. The situations in which the characters find themselves, and the plot of this piece of fan fiction is solely the work of my twisted, slash infected mind. No money is being made and no infringement is intended. Please don't sue me. I'm merely playing in JKR's world.

Chapter Two: Down on Luck

For Harry waking up was not a gradual, gentle process. It was instead like a splash of cold water as he jerked awake, biting back a scream of pain. He was lying in a pool of cooling blood; blood which he realized was his own. He groaned, hands searching for his glasses before he recalled that they had been shattered beneath one of his uncles fierce kicks earlier. It's just my luck that the Dursley's would have been told about Dumbledore's death. Sighing, Harry struggled to his feet, stumbling in the general direction of his bed, only allowing himself to collapse when he felt his knees brush the mattress. If this summer was anything like the previous ones then he would be in here until morning came, and with morning would come the endless list of chores. And judging by the way his uncle had started right in on the brutal beatings he found he was glad he had packed food in with his things from school. Merlin knew the Dursley's would abstain from feeding him anything more than what was required to keep him alive. If that since his uncle seemed too positive no one would be rescuing him.

Groaning, Harry settled onto the bed, eyes closing as he began the mental catalogue of his injuries. Years of beatings and extensive Quidditch accidents had left him with a good sense of his body and what could be wrong with it. An obviously cut up face- probably from his glasses- a black eye, loose tooth, and three cracked ribs later Harry again fell unconscious, this time into a deep sleep. In the corner across the room from Harry, Draco sat watching the youth sleeping. It seemed that there was much more to be learned about Harry Potter than he had previously surmised. Shaking his head, Draco lowered his forehead to his knees, hoping to get some sleep now that he was sure that Harry was still alive. A fine place to hide it would have been indeed if Harry had died.

His plan to seek peace in slumber was shattered when Harry let out an ear-piercing wail of unmitigated pain, his back arching as though he was under a Cruciatus curse. Harry's hands seemed to be clawing at his forehead, where Draco was positive Harry's scar was. Draco's head snapped up so fast he could tell his neck would be sore come morning. He was still trying to decide if he should stay or flee for the sake of his sanity when he heard the sound of locks being unlocked and the door flew open. Harry's fat uncle stormed in, his face purple with rage. Swallowing Draco pushed himself further into the corner; somehow he had the feeling that even with his wand he wouldn't want to be dealing with the man anytime soon.

Vernon was carrying what appeared at Draco's first glance appeared to be a rather odd looking wand, being long and rather knobby. Without breaking his stride he grabbed Harry by his shirt and threw him over, lifted the stick and crashed it down on Harry's back. "You freak! You can't even be quiet at night times. I don't know why we ever agreed to be so kind as to take the likes of you in. God knows we should have burned you, you little bastard. It could have been just like we used to do to your kind of people." The keening cries refused to stop pouring from his lips, and Vernon seemed to take an immense amount of pleasure in the act of raising the stick and letting it fall upon Harry's unprotected back, each blow harder than the last until finally the screams stopped.

"I'm sorry, Uncle Vernon, sir," Harry managed to croak out, struggling to keep his body from curling in on itself. Bruises were already rising, and blood was oozing from the wounds inflicted from Dudley's smelting stick. Every breath seemed like a new experience in torture, as though it was fire he breathed in instead of air. He was now certain he had at least two broken and no less than 6 fractured ribs. A flash of bitter resentment flooded him as he considered that he would not have been in this mess if his uncle had simply let him keep his wand. He could have at least cast a silencing spell so his uncle would have never heard him screaming like that. He barely acknowledged when his uncle left the room, merely closing his eyes and biting his lower lip to hold back the whimper of pain.

Voldemort was pissed off if that vision was anything to go by. He closed his eyes, trying to remember exactly what it was he had seen. "Malfoy," he whispered, his eyes flashing open as he remembered. Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Malfoy… Voldemort had them under the Cruciatus curse, trying to find out where Draco Malfoy had gone. Harry struggled into a more comfortable position on the bed, sighing softly. So Draco had never gone back to Voldemort after that night on the tower. Harry found that to be a bit of a shock, he would have thought Draco would be anxious to return. After all, even if he hadn't been the one to kill Dumbledore the headmaster was still dead by the hand of his potions professor. Harry's hands tightened into fists as he lay there, body still shaking from the after effects of his vision.

However, Harry remembered that night on the tower clearly, and behind the rage he felt he recalled something about the Malfoy heir. He had been afraid, and not just for himself, but for his family as well. Sighing softly Harry closed his eyes and allowed his body to slip into blissfully dream free sleep, still considering what he had witnessed in his vision.

When Draco had heard Harry whisper his family name he had sat straight up, eyes widening in fear. How did he know? But when Harry did nothing but lay in thought he allowed himself to relax marginally. If Harry had known he was there he would have said more... Wouldn't he have? He watched the dark haired youth a moment before it had occurred to him. He had overheard the Gryffindors talking about Harry seeing things that the Dark Lord had done, and it seemed that whenever they had commented it was when Harry had been touching that cursed scar on his forehead. Like he had just been doing before. Draco's already pale features became even paler. His family.

-hdhdhdhd-

The third waking wasn't any easier on Harry than the first two had been. He felt as though his body was on fire, and every movement caused him to bite his lower lip to hold back the screams. Copper flooded his mouth as he sat up slowly, bones shifting and grating against each other as he struggled to breathe. Through the red haze of pain he dimly noted his uncle screaming at him about breakfast and Harry nodded. Of course, it was morning and the Dursley's would want their breakfast, even if he could barely breathe without screaming in pain. His pain was of no consequence to them.

For a moment as Harry was struggling to his feet he caught sight of grey eyes in the corner of his room, but when he blinked there was nothing. Grief knifed through him as he remembered grey eyes as his godfather fell into the veil and Harry had to blink back tears. Sirius wasn't alive, so it had to have been his imagination. He shook his head, warding off the phantom pain of grief and struggled to dress. He was surprised to see that some of damage he recalled from the night before had faded, but assumed it was something to do with his innate magic protecting him. He only hoped his uncle wouldn't notice.

Turning and looking around the room one more time, half hoping to see those startling grey eyes once more, Harry whispered to the empty room. "I miss you, Sirius. I'll see you soon." Harry made his way down the stairs at an agonizingly slow pace, unable to move too fast for fear of the pain overwhelming him.

-hdhdhdhd-

Draco silently cursed himself as he watched Harry get dressed and finally leave the bedroom. He should have known better, should have recast the disillusionment charm before going to sleep. He was only lucky that Harry's fat muggle uncle had been so focused on Harry that he hadn't noticed the blond sleeping in the corner of the room. When Harry's eyes had focused on him Draco had realized the charm had slipped and, quickly and quietly, cast it again.

He decided to take the time while Harry was no where around to explore the room. After all, he intended to be spending a fair bit of time here, it was only fair that he knew what it was like. As he wandered around the room he conjured up a cup of Sencha tea, and a few slices of toast for himself. He had seen Harry hide a good portion of things underneath the bed and so he looked through what all was down there. Invisibility cloak... Explains how the prat was able to sneak around so much. Photo album of his mudblood mother and father. And... Food? Why on earth would Potter need to hide food?

Seeing as how food was packed down there Draco carefully put everything back where he had found it, and frowned. The corner was far too uncomfortable for him to continue sleeping there. If it wasn't for the fact that he couldn't think of another place where he would be half as safe he doubted very much he would even be here. Shaking his head he opened Harry's wardrobe and frowned. Does Potter even own anything that fits him? Frowning, he waved his wand, magically enlarging a space within. It would suffice for now. In the meantime he thought it might be a good idea to see how Harry lived. From what he had seen so far it was like nothing he had expected.

-hdhdhdhd-

It was only through sheer willpower that Harry was able to manage cooking breakfast for the Dursley's. Flipping the bacon, Harry was just able to hold back a whimper of pain, instead just allowing a soft hiss to escape through his teeth. When the last piece of bacon had been added to the plates on the counter he sighed in relief. "Breakfast is ready Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley." He sank to a stool gratefully and waited for his relatives to finish eating. His mouth watered as he watched them eat, and Dudley grinned around his food, making a point of finishing off what was on his own plate as well as what was on his mum and dads plates as well.

"Well, boy, looks like there's nothing left for you. Your list is over there, I expect it done by the time I get home from work tonight." Vernon smirked, causing Harry to think of Draco Malfoy once more, before dropping a kiss on Petunia and Dudley's cheeks before he left for work.

Shortly after uncle Vernon had left aunt Petunia stepped out to run a few errands, and Harry swallowed, back turned to the kitchen as he stumbled towards his list of chores. He knew the list was going to be long, but when he saw just how long he visibly slumped. How was he to paint the entire house, inside and out, without the aid of magic? Harry was unable to think on that for an overly long period of time before he felt his cousin's hands on him, shoving him against the stove. Harry swallowed back a yelp of combined surprise and pain, and slowly lifted his head. "Yeah, Dudders? I'm a little busy, you know."

Dudley laughed and spun Harry around to face him before slamming his fist into his face. Harry's nose broke under the fist and blood flowed swiftly. Harry simply stood there, knowing from experience that if he fought back and a mark was left on Dudley then tonight's beating would be even worse than last nights had been. The last time he had fought back he'd had both his ankles broken, as well as every finger in his hands. He'd been lucky to heal mostly by his internal magic as his relatives had refused to bring him to a hospital.

-hdhdhdhd-

Draco watched from the door way to the kitchen, eyes widening as he watched his nemesis stand there and take a full out beating from his fat muggle cousin. It was beyond him as to why Harry was putting up with all of this. After all, he was the bloody Boy-Who-Lived, the saviour of the wizarding world. He was needed to survive, to finish this war with the Dark Lord. Draco needed him to survive and kill off the Dark Lord for him.

As Draco was about to pull his wand and stop the beating Dudley finally pulled back, smiling in satisfaction as Harry slumped to the ground. The fat youth turned and left the house and Draco silently sat down at stool and looked over the list of chores.

All of the chores could simply be achieved by a wave of his wand, and so Draco took care of most of the items on the list as he watched Harry's body healing itself once more. He knew it wasn't as good as what Madam Pompfrey could do if they were back at Hogwarts, and Draco suspected that if he had cast any healing charms or given him any healing potions it would be obvious to both Harry and his muggle relatives that someone had helped.

With most of the chores finished, and Harry as healed up as his magic would allow Draco made his way back up the stairs towards Harry's bedroom lost in thought. Everything he had thought he had known about Harry Potter was turning out to be completely false, and Draco was unsure as to how he should be feeling now.

-hdhdhdhd-

Harry was awoken by a foot thudding into the still broken ribs in his chest and was unable to hold back the yell of pain. Blinking his eyes open he peered through the fog to see a large old man smirking down at him. "Couldn't get your chores done, freak? I guess you aren't any better than the rest of us then are you?" Uncle Vernon must have had a good day, Harry thought to himself, wincing as he attempted to regain his feet. He remembered breakfast, followed by the beating from Dudley, yet when he looked around it seemed most of his chores had been finished. I must have hit my head harder than I thought if I don't remember doing all this.

Harry shook his head in an effort to clear it only to have the headshake interpreted as a refusal to listen to his uncle. "That's it boy! No supper for you, go to your room and prepare yourself." Harry felt a nervous twitch in his eye but nodded anyways and stumbled back up the stairs. Prepare himself. He hated hearing those words from his uncle. He would take a thousand beatings if only to never hear him say that again.

Pushing open the door to his room Harry looked around, sensing that something was off, however as he only had a few minutes in order to prepare himself he filed the information away in his brain for further attention and stripped down to his boxers, kneeling in front of the door. Merlin only knew how long it would be before his uncle came for his punishment, and in the meantime Harry struggled to hold back the memories that threatened to escape.

-Flashback-

He'd had a nightmare again, the green light and woman screaming flooding him with terror that no six year old boy should deal with. Harry managed to stumble out of his cupboard, not stopping to wonder why it was unlocked when his uncle locked him in every night, and made his way up the stairs to his aunt's room. When he opened the door, choking back sobs of terror, he stopped, eyes widening at what he saw. He hadn't meant to walk in on that. It had just happened.

His uncle had been trying to convince Petunia to put his thing in her mouth and she had refused. It seemed to be a nightly occurrence, with the way that they were behaving and when Harry had walked in he saw his aunt refusing his uncle. It was enough to make the man snap, and he rolled out of bed, still naked, stalking after a frightened Harry who tried to run back to his cupboard.

Harry tripped at the top of the stairs and crumpled to the floor in a heap at the bottom, tears streaming down his cheeks as he looked up at his uncle. "Come here, boy. You've been living here a long time, and I think I've finally found a way to make you worth something." Vernon smirked coldly at the boy, and grabbed Harry by the hair, wrenching him up to his knees. "I'm going to teach you how to suck a cock, you ungrateful freak."

Vernon pried Harry's lips open with one hand and shoved his cock into the boys mouth, choking him with it. Harry gagged, eyes wide as he tried to accommodate the fat length of his uncle in his mouth, struggling not to vomit from the texture of it on his tongue. It was over quickly, his throat bathed in his uncle's semen, when his uncle backhanded him. Harry curled up into a ball and sobbed at his uncle's feet. "Did you like that, cock-sucking freak?" Taking Harry's sobs for a negative he laughed coldly and then went back to his bed, leaving the child alone on the floor. And Harry cried, knowing somehow that this wouldn't be the last time his uncle abused his mouth in such a manner.

-End Flashback-

Draco curled up in the corner once more, surprised to see Harry return, obviously distraught over something important. The green fire that usually lit Harry's eyes flickered as though dying out and Draco's own silver eyes narrowed as he began to wonder just what was happening to kill off that passion that made Harry so much fun. He was still considering this when Harry began the agonizing, but quick, process of stripping himself down to his boxers, held up by the use of a safety pin.

Draco could see the thin silver-white of scars covering Harry's body, many of them appearing to be self-inflicted, but the majority seemed to have been from others. He could see scars that appeared much like the marks he had received last night littering Harry's otherwise creamy gold skin. It seemed that last night had been a fairly common occurrence if the scars were anything to judge by. Sighing softly, Draco conjured himself a glass of water and relaxed back, watching Harry as he knelt nearly naked in his doorway, waiting for what he could only assume to be the punishment that was killing Harry's fire. The fire Draco only ever wanted to see burning for him.