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 too 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 Three: Drunken Confessions
For the first time Harry could honestly say that he was grateful to Professor Snape. Although Occlumency lessons had been an episode of pain he had learnt, and he was more than willing to use those lessons again to help him block his uncle's favourite method of punishment out. His eyes were unseeing as he began the slow process of building up his shields, protecting his mind from intrusion, and protecting his soul from shattering with what he knew was to come. The fire flickered in his eyes, dimming as he built the shields up to protect himself.
A small laugh escaped Harry and he was surprised at the bitterness that was held within. Snape would die if he knew just what I was using his lessons for. Funny thing is, he thought I hadn't learned anything form him. Idiot. If I hadn't learned he would have been able to witness thisHarry shook his head slightly, as though he could banish the thoughts with the simple motion. Barriers in place he settled back on his heels and waited, knowing his uncle would take his time, waiting until the family was occupied before he would come in and use him.
Draco was still watching Harry from the corner when he heard the thunder on the stairs that indicated that someone was arriving. He sat up a little bit straighter, eyes narrowing as they watched the way Harry flinched away from the door when his muggle uncle stepped in, shutting the door firmly behind him. Narrowed eyes soon opened in shock, however, when he watched the muggle undoing his trousers and pulling out a flaccid penis, stroking it a few times before presenting it to Harry as though it were a great honour to receive. What the..? That's his uncle though…
Vernon's right hand fisted in the messy locks of Harry's hair, pulling him forward violently, other hand cupping his chin and forcing Harry to open his mouth, "You know what to do, worthless little freak." He smirked as Harry's mouth opened, allowing him to slide his cock in between those lips, savouring the feeling of the boy's unwilling mouth surrounding him in its moist heat. "And remember, no teeth boy. You don't have your magic, your friends, or your little stick to save you know. You're mine, slut, and I intend to enjoy it this summer." He continued to thrust in Harry's mouth, reveling in the abuse and rape of his nephew.
Harry gagged on every thrust of his uncle's hips, forcing back the bile. When he could feel that his uncle was nearing completion Harry tightened his lips, his tongue swirling and caressing the cock in his mouth, hoping to end this as quickly as possible. Part of him wanted to end this, to end the violation of his mouth, but a small part of him wanted to end it, to prove to his uncle that he could do something no one else would, that he was good at this at least. He hated that part of himself, but it was the only thing that had kept him sane all these years. Vernon reached out and pinched Harry's broken nose, causing him to let out a yell in pain, and to try and fight to get away from him. Laughing mockingly at the broken boy on his knees in front of him, Vernon came in Harry's mouth. When he pulled away form Harry and let go the boy fell forward, hands barely reaching out in time to stop himself from landing face first on the floor in front of him.
Vernon was still laughing as he tucked himself back into his trousers and left the room to take a shower before going to bed with his wife. Draco shuddered, swallowing back his own bile. That was his uncle! How could he do something like that..? When Harry stirred slightly in front of him he watched, chewing on his lower lip as he tried to decide what to do. He could come out and tell Harry he was there, beg him to let him explain, and hope that Harry would help him. Or he could watch, and wait for a better time. He knew from everything he had seen so far that Harry was not living the perfect life he had always envisioned that the Boy-Who-Lived would have, but somehow he doubted Harry wanted anyone to know that. Otherwise he would have told all and sundry about his life here and the public would have demanded better for him. Or at the least the Weasleys would have… well... they would have done something more for him.
Harry carefully crawled across the room towards his bed and pulled out a bucket, his stomach clenching before he leaned over it and allowed himself the luxury of vomiting, tasting his uncle's semen as it passed over his tongue once more, but this time he felt cleaner, as though he had purged himself of the filth of his uncle. Sweat plastered strands of his hair to his forehead as he finished, sagging back against his bed. He felt unclean, tainted, and he wanted to forget the shame. He struggled to his stomach and managed to snag a bottle of fire whiskey from his stash under the loose floorboard before sitting up once more.
Pulling the cork off with his teeth Harry leaned back against his bed, taking a large swallow of the alcohol. The fire burned down his throat and helped to relax him, taking away the salty bitter taste from his mouth, and easing the pain in his throat. A few swallows later and his vision was significantly blurred, and he closed his eyes against the world, remembering the grey eyes from earlier that day. "Merlin, Sirius, I miss you. I wish you were here, wish I'd told you." He laughed to himself. "Listen to me, talking as though you could hear me when you're dead. 'Mione said that talking things out would help me feel better though; I just don't think she meant to get drunk and talk to my dead godfather. Who isn't even a ghost either."
Harry took a long pull form the bottle as Draco watched. The name Sirius sounded familiar, but the only Sirius he knew of was Black, a cousin of his. He hadn't even known the man had died, although he imagined it was bound to happen sooner or later as he'd spent so much time in Azkaban he'd probably been a little crazy. Watching Harry drink was making him thirsty and he took a sip of water, listening as Harry began to detail to his godfather what all had happened in his life with the Dursley's. With each description of abuse and torture Draco began to feel sicker than before and was wondering how Harry had managed to live so long. In the Wizarding world children were cared for, and treasured since there were so few of them that to see how this family of muggles had treated Harry worse than a house elf churned his stomach.
"I just wish, Siri, that I could have chosen. I mean, I haven't done more than that, but… I didn't even get to choose that. And now I don't even know if I could do that for anyone. Would I just think of my uncle? And it's not that I don't want to. There are a lot of blokes I'd love to… but..." he watched as Harry shrugged, eyes still closed. Bloody hell. Saint Potter's gay? If Draco hadn't been sitting down he would have fallen over from the shock. He'd thought for sure after that thing he'd had with the Weaselette that Harry was as straight as they come, but here Harry was pouring out his heart in front of him, proving him wrong. Draco couldn't help but wonder just which blokes Harry had thought of, though he imagined the Weasel must have been in there somewhere.
The sound of an empty bottle slipping through nerveless fingers to roll across the floor startled Draco out of his reverie and he jumped, watching as Harry slumped over, passing out. He shook his head before carefully gathering Harry in his arms and placing him in the bed, pulling up the covers to Harry's chin, a small smile gracing his full lips before he retreated back to the wardrobe, casting a silencing charm in case Harry had another nightmare.
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A week passed in similar fashion. His uncle would leave him a list of chores that no one person could perform and Harry would do his best to do what he could. Every night he was punished for his failures, listening to a litany of reasons why he was a worthless freak. Some nights it was a beating, usually with Dudley's help. Other nights it was the rape of his mouth, and those were the nights that he stayed up drinking until he passed out. Those were the nights he would talk to his godfather. He told Sirius about how strange it had been to suddenly wake up one day and to learn he was a wizard, about how he'd been told his family had died in a car accident. He told him his deepest darkest secrets; how he was afraid he'd end up like Voldemort if he killed him, about the prophecy that stated he would be the one to kill him even if he didn't want to, about how he'd decided he liked both blokes and birds. He was never quite sure how he managed to wake up in his bed those mornings, but he was grateful to wake up warm and feeling lighter for having confessed.
The nights Harry talked about his life Draco would listen in morbid fascination, his hatred for the muggles Harry called his family growing along with his respect for the boy. He could hardly believe that the boy who knew nothing about the wizarding world had lasted as long as he had but was finding himself to be grateful and swore that as soon as they managed to escape this place he would protect Harry from his family. But every time the abuse would begin Draco found he was too afraid to move, and hated himself for that fact. He knew that if he tried and failed then the muggle would kill him and Harry without a second thought, so he bided his time, waiting for when he could help out the boy he was starting to count on for salvation.
The eighth day had passed in the same manner as the days before and the routine seemed to be in place as Draco followed Harry up to their room, stepping silently to avoid detection. Harry was standing by the window of his room, Draco sitting in his usual corner out of the way when a fluttering at the window attracted both boys attention. Harry stepped over to open the window and a familiar snowy owl flew in. Harry reached for the scroll tied to her leg as the door to the room was flung open with enough force to crash into the wall. "What is that ruddy bird doing here, boy? Didn't I tell you I didn't want that piece of filth in my home? Didn't I tell you just what I would do to it?" He advanced into the room, eyes blazing.
Harry stepped between his uncle and Hedwig, his eyes pleading. "Please sir; I don't know why she's here. I'm sure my friends just sent her to check on me, to make sure I was alright. They worry about me, that's all. Please don't hurt her. Please!" A meaty fist flew from his uncle's side, landing a hit on Harry's face, causing him to stumble to the side before he stood up once more. Tears shone in Harry's eyes but he refused to allow them to fall, standing firm against his uncle. He'd take any abuse right now to protect his owl. His uncle continued to lash out at him and Harry struggled to return to his feet each time until finally he could no longer stand, slumping into unconsciousness.
Draco watched as Harry defended his bird and was surprised when she flew over to him, landing on his shoulder. With the muggle distracted he wrapped his cloak around her, eyes never leaving the scene before him. He was surprised that Harry could withstand so much pain, and was certain that the young seeker had to have multiple broken bones. He knew if it had been him he wouldn't have been able to leave bed, and yet every day Harry was up to cook meals for his family, and do more chores than a house elf. He frowned slightly, wishing he could just find the courage to jump in, but shook his head. Not now. When Harry finally fell unconscious he was momentarily relieved, but when the fat muggle began stripping Harry down he was shocked, then angered. He knew Harry was still a virgin, he had listened to the boy confess as much the other night, but he feared that this would no longer be the case if things continued to progress.
Draco tiptoed out of the room, heading down the stairs towards the kitchen. He knew that the dishes were in here somewhere… Ah, there they were. Draco took a plate and threw it against the wall, smiling in grim satisfaction as it shattered with a loud noise. He waited a moment before repeating his actions. When he had destroyed the plates the bowls were next. Finally he heard the sound of the family on the stairs. He waited for them to pass before hurrying back up, hoping to get Harry out of there as quickly as possible.
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When Harry came to he groaned, eyes shutting as he pressed his face into the pillow on his bed. His entire body ached, and he automatically tried to curl up into the fetal position only to discover that he was incapable of moving. His eyes flickered open and he looked around, trying to focus his eyes. When he pulled on his arm he found that it was tied to the bed and he let out a soft whimper. This wasn't a good sign. His uncle must have been furious to tie him to the bed like this and Harry swallowed, eyes closing as he waited, hoping this would be a night where he was only left for morning to arrive and then released. He wasn't sure if he could withstand the belt tonight, not after the beating he'd already received.
Harry had to bite back a groan as he heard the door open and close, straining to hear the foot steps of his uncle he heard instead soft, secretive foot steps that walked around the room, and he could hear things being moved. When he opened up his eyes there was no one there, and his brow furrowed in confusion. He was sure he had heard someone, but when he could see no one he closed his eyes and pressed his face into the pillow once more. He could still hear what sounded to be someone in his room but as they were quiet noises, nothing at all like his uncle, Harry ignored them, hoping to not hear the sounds of his uncle.
Draco watched Harry with one eye it seemed as he started to gather the belongings he knew they would need when they ran. He pulled Harry's cloak from under the bed along with his Firebolt, and his bag. The items were stacked in the corner, cloak draped over top to hide them from view. He considered packing clothing for Harry but changed his mind, deciding that Harry was better off with some new clothing anyways and since they looked about the same size he would share with the boy if he needed to. It offended his sense of beauty to see him in such ugly things. Draco had nearly completed his task when he heard the thunder of foot steps on the stairs and a furious Vernon wrenched open the door, stalking across to the bed, spittle practically foaming at his mouth.
"How did you do it, boy? I know you don't have that stick of yours, you can't do magic, but somehow you did. Or do you have a bloody invisible friend?" Spit was flying from his uncle's mouth as he yelled at Harry, and Harry laughed bitterly. He was pissed off, and Harry was terrified of what would happen. The green fire flared in his eyes as he watched his uncle from his position tied on the bed, face down and spread eagled.
"Tell me uncle, do you really think anyone could be invisible? You're a lot dimmer than I thought. But then again you're just a filthy muggle, aren't you?" Harry winced slightly, knowing his words would only serve to inflame his uncle further, but continuing. When his uncle was mad like this he was less likely to rape his mouth and he wasn't sure if he could stomach it this evening. "And if I could use my magic you wouldn't have me tied down like this, I can assure you!" He screamed as his uncle ripped his belt out of his trousers, lashes raining down on Harry's back, each one opening the skin, causing him to yell out and squirm. Each movement caused his broken ribs to jar and grind against each other, undoubtedly tearing him up internally.
When Harry was starting to think it couldn't get any worse he felt the slick smooth sensation of wood rubbing against his back, digging into the open wounds. His head lifted and he turned enough to catch sight of his wand. Oh Merlin, no. Is he just taunting me with it? Please say he's just taunting me and nothing else. Harry's stomach twisted as his uncle smirked. "Oh yes boy, after that show downstairs you're going to learn to behave yourself. I'm going to break this little stick of yours. But first, I'm going to play with it." The wand continued to be rolled in the blood, sliding down over the torn flesh of his back before it pushed against the cleft of his arse.
Harry stiffened, clenching his muscles as bets as he could, trying to keep his wand from going there, but it was of no use, it had been liberally coated in his blood and slid between the cheeks, plunging deep within him. Harry bucked and screamed, fighting and clawing to get away from the burning tearing sensation of being violated in this manner. His screams were punctuated by sobs, and pleas for his uncle to let him go, promises that he would never use magic again, that he would do anything he wanted but to stop. The pain didn't stop, but after a few minutes he felt the wand retract, replaced by the thick heat of his uncle and Harry screamed, his back arching as he saw white fire gathering before his eyes. The fire surged, flared and his uncle was thrown across the room, hitting the wall with a dull thump.
Draco choked back the vomit as he watched Harry's uncle violate him with his own wand, tears streaming unchecked down his cheeks as he held onto his robes to keep from lunging after the man and killing him with his bare hands. Even if the beatings he had originally seen were something he felt that Harry had deserved, and after listening to his drunken confessions he no longer thought that, he could not condone this rape, the theft of Harry's innocence. He was torn out of the indecision when the muggle was flung across the room and without a thought Draco stepped in front of the fat muggle, wand drawn and disillusionment charm dropped.
Vernon growled and lunged towards Draco, blood streaming down the side of his face from the wound in his forehead. Draco took a step backwards before narrowing his eyes, and waving his wand. "Avada Kedavra!" He watched with an air of detachment as the muggle slumped to the ground in slow motion, eyes glossing over as death overcame the man. He spun around, dropping to his knees in front of Harry's bed, watching as green eyes widened slightly.
"Sirius..? But you're dead…"
Draco swallowed, lifting his wand and pointing it at Harry before whispering softly, "stupefy." When the green eyes closed Draco gathered him in his arms, summoning their belongings from the corner and apparating them away to the one place he thought they might be safe, where Harry could receive the healing he would need.