Hi sorry for the late update, i only just finished it off so there may be 'issues' with the gramma. ;
Anyway, Harry Potter and Crew are Not mine, not that i really need to tell you that right? soo On with the show:

The Enlightened

Harry squeezed his eyes shut tightly, waiting for that moment for that blessed darkness to take him, each second he remained conscious was a second too long by his reckoning.

Draco just watched the panicking hero, coolly. Beneath that mask, Draco's mind whirled; he needed to think of something really suave and witty to say. He needed to control the situation. He needed to make an impression!

"Potter, do you mind moving, you're squashing my dick." Was the common trash that spewed forth out of his cultured mouth.

'Great,' Draco thought, 'Seventeen years of the best upbringing know to Wizarding kind, and that drivel was the best I can come up with?'

Watching Potter react, however, made the crude statement almost worthwhile. The boy's grubby face shone red and he quickly scrambled away from Draco's crotch and in doing so landed himself on the other side of the giant bed. Embarrassment looked good on him.

Harry stared in shock; he remembered what had happened at the Dursley's place, vaguely. He remembered hearing Malfoy's voice and trying to get his trunk open in order to get his wand. He remembered the pain from his ribs, being so intense that he barely made it to the bed, before passing out. He vaguely remembered a vision, a strong voice telling those muggles where to shove it and some where in the depths of his unconscious mind he remembered warm arms, lifting him up and taking him from that hellhole the Dursley's called home.

Wrapping an arm around his aching ribs, Harry studied Malfoy intently; the other boy was slightly rumpled, probably from being slept on. His, usually immaculate, hair framed his face gently, it was longer then Harry remembered it to be, almost long enough to tie back and it had curled at the ends, Harry was amused to think Malfoy had curls. His light white cotton shirt, which would normally have a billowiness look to them, lay flat and wrinkled and his pant's, though black, also had a distinct 'slept in' look. Still Harry had to admit that Malfoy looked damn good, not that Harry looked at boys or anything like that.

Clearing his throat Harry thought it time to address the major issue at hand, and said in a voice that shook only a little, "Malfoy, what am I doing here? And for that matter, where the Hell is here? And as while on the Where and Why subject, What the hell was that substance you gave me, you know, that foul grey stuff?"

Draco sputtered for a moment, "I'll have you know Potter, that I put a lot of effort into that soup!" he yelled, his face bright with anger. How dare he question him after all he's done?

"You call that soup?" Potter screamed back, leaning forward to emphasise his anger. As he did, he wrapped other arm around his ribs and crippled over, in obvious pain. "Shit," Potter muttered fiercely, under his breath, "shit, shit, shit!"

Draco crawled across the bed and wrapped an arm around Potter's shoulders. The other boy stiffened and looked up, his over bright, deep green eyes glared though thick, dirty, cracked and amazingly ugly glasses. They were another thing that dumb elf can burn for him.

"Why are you touching me Malfoy?" Potter asked belligerently.

Draco figured that the only way to avoid answering that question was to ignore it completely. "I think you have internal damage Potter, I'll go and get some potions out of the cellar, just wait here alright." He said while gently patting Potter on the back.

Swiftly he clambered off the bed and made his way to the door, when he got there he turned to a very confounded Potter. "Don't worry, I'll fix you up in no time." he said with a smile and then he looked serious, "you don't have to go back Potter, you can heal here." Draco snorted, " Hell this place has more concealment charms then Hogwarts." And with that he turned and left the room. Leaving Harry to stunned to do anything more then fall into the soft bed and wonder what the hell had happened to Draco Malfoy.

Draco was thinking much the same thing as he almost fell down the stairs that led to the dark and dusty cellar. What the hell had possessed him to reassure Potter? He had actually been nice to the other boy!

"Ahhh!" Draco shouted as he shook his head in frustration. What had he been thinking?

"Illuminus" he muttered and the dark cellar was infused with light. To one side of the dirty room was a large wine rack, boasting some of the oldest and most expensive wines and spirits left in England. Filling the rest of the room were shelves upon shelves of potions and remedies to cure any ail.

Draco clambered over boxes and old rusty cauldrons till he reached the shelves he wanted, he chose four small bottles form the selection and then climbed out of the cellar all the while cursing stupid Gryffindors and their contagious goodwill or maybe he'd spent too long around Hufflepuffs.

Back in front of Potter's room Draco gnawed on his bottom lip, He juggled the potions in his hands and the clothes slung over his arm and opened the heavy hard wood door with a little difficulty.

Potter was lying on the bed; eyes closed and breathing shallowly, Draco could hear Potter's breath rattling around in his chest from where he stood on the other side of the room.

"Come on Potter, wake up!" Draco said loudly, banging the door. Potter nearly jumped of the bed.

"Good your up." Draco continued, ignoring the dark glare he was receiving from the inky haired boy. He ambled over to the bed and dumped his armload down on to the soft covers.

"Take this," Draco threw a light blue phial at Potter who only just caught it. He looked at it warily and Draco could practically hear the boy's thoughts. "It's not poison Potter, It's a healing potion, helps with internal bleeding and broken bones." He then tossed two more phials, pink and green respectively at the battered boy in the bed. "The pink one is for concussion and head injuries, that uncle of yours gave your head a sound beating, no wonder you're so hard headed." Draco tried to joke with lofty tones, judging from Potter's open-mouthed stare it wasn't working.

"And," he continued hastily, "the Green one's a muscle replenisher, you look like skin and bones."

"What's the other one for?" Potter asked, gesturing to the light purple phial still in his hand.

"That's for my headache." Draco drawled and then uncorked the thin phial and gulped down the potion with barely a grimace. He then shoved the clothes over to Potter. "Once the potions start to work I want you to have a bath in the ensuite behind me." He pointed to the door, " I then want you to put on these clothes, what your wearing isn't fit for a house elf let alone Harry Potter: Saviour of the Wizarding World."

"I'm no saviour." Potter muttered.

"I'll say, I've never seen a more pathetic wizard in my life, letting those muggles do that! What were you thinking? You have magic you idiot, and even if you didn't, you have legs, you could have ran away!"

Potter looked shocked for a moment, then fury clouded his features, "WHAT? What gives you the right! What do you know about me Malfoy, huh? Think you saw the True Harry Potter? Think you have the right to tell Me about what I can and can't do? Don't you know…" tears had started now, "Don't you know that even if I could find a way to escape the Dursley's that I have two lots of people watching me. One's out to see me dead and the other think that keeping me at that Hell-hole in Surrey was a way to protect me, only the Dursley's would like me dead as well." Potter was sobbing now, jeez PMSing much?

"What are you talking about Potter, if escaping was so hard for you, why the hell was it so easy getting you out?" Draco pointed out softly, "But that doesn't matter at the moment, what matters, is you taking the potions and then having a bath or something, because you reek to the high hills."

Harry shook his head in a bemused fashion, surely this wasn't Malfoy. It couldn't be. The Malfoy he knew would never ever act like this.

"So wait, why did you take me away?" Harry questioned. Malfoy groaned, "I told you it doesn't matter. Take your damn potions and then get washed up." He growled.

Harry did as instructed and gulped down the foul potions as fast as possible but he couldn't contain the grimace that followed each potion.

"Amateur." Malfoy said disdainfully once all phials were empty.

"No, I've had to have many potions in my time Malfoy. The difference is, is that I still have taste, unlike your good self." Harry grinned; he was already feeling the potions effects.

"I beg your pardon?" Malfoy screeched in outrage. "I'll have you know that I have impeccable taste you ungrateful, uncouth, unrefined lout!"

Malfoy flicked a stay lock of hair from his eyes and flounced out of the room muttering loudly about Gryffindor's and lack of manners. Harry payed it no mind as he felt his ribs move back into place and mend themselves. Not the most comfortable thing in the world. Not by any stretch.

The potions took approximately twenty minutes to work well enough that Harry felt well enough to get out of the bed and make his way to the bathroom.

It wasn't a big bathroom compared to some of the ones they had at Hogwarts however it was still a reasonable size and had more then enough room for a separate area for the lavatory. It had tiled walls; white boarded with blue. On the centre of every wall was a mosaic of some magical water creature. Over to the far right was a large spa bath and to his direct right a shower area. Immediately in front of him was a large, long mirror and below it was the vanity and basin. On the left was the sectioned of toilet and a double door wardrobe.

Harry opened the wardrobe and withdrew a big fluffy creamy white towel, hung it over the rack at the back of the door, removed his tattered clothed and then stepped in to the shower recess. The water that came out of the muggle-like shower head was magiked to be exactly the right temperature and Harry couldn't help but sigh over the fantastic feeling being clean and warm brought to his body. Truly perfect.

Draco stormed out of Potter's room in a tizz. That disgusting lout, that lousy unappreciative bastard! Call him tasteless would he? How dare he! That…that…that no good, low down good-for-nothing Gryffindor arse!

Draco slammed into his own room, nearly taking the door out as he did so, anger radiated from his core and steam seemed to come out of his ears. See if he'd ever be nice to Gryffindor heathens again…see if he'd ever be nice to Harry Potter again.

"Missy, you no good, hideous House-elf, get your nauseatingly repugnant self here now." Draco growled, clicking his fingers loudly.

In an instant, a small, grubby, absolutely revoltingly ugly house-elf stood before him. Who said Draco didn't have taste, he had taste enough to know that house-elves were just gross!

"Yes Mater Malfoy sir, what can I's be doin' for ya sir?" the house-elf asked, tugging on the bottom of her pillowcase nervously.

"Listen Elf," Draco said in annoyance, why did he have to talk to the repulsive creature? "I want you, while Potter's in the shower, to clean that room, change the bedding and burn Potter's old clothes. Think you can handle that?"

"Oh yes Master Malfoy sir, Missy can do that, Missy can do that well sir! Before ol' mistress be passin' sir, Missy used to do house 'old chores all da time sir, Mistress be sayin; I's is good at it."

"Except cooking that is."

Missy nodded sadly, "Yes, I've never been able to cook without someone endin' in 'ospital." Draco's eyes widened, "Go near the kitchen and I'll shoot you, or something equally muggle." He assured the elf, before adding, "No go, you useless waste of space."

And like that the Elf was gone.

/\\\\\\?

Missy was excited, it had been an age since anyone had stayed at the cottage, Master Malfoy had only been once to inspect the place, and he hadn't stayed long. But now he was back, and with a friend to, Missy was happy, she liked watching humans, they interested her, and she loved seeing their interactions with each other. She could remember her old mistress; she had been a young, cool beauty, a true and proper Malfoy when she had first come to the cottage, not long after her husband's death. Back then Mistress Malfoy would do nothing to step out of the place society had create, the cool and solitary widow, waiting for her own death so she could join her husband again. However she hadn't foreseen meeting and falling in love once more, to a normal muggle man who had accidentally strayed into the wards, which were later strengthened so the cottage couldn't be accessed by anyone other then the Mistress and anyone else of her choosing. They had stayed together for a great many years, never leaving, never being anything but together. But then the Muggle Master died of age and the Mistress lost all heart. She left briefly, settled he affairs and came back to die. Both the Mistress and her Muggle are buried at the back of the garden, always together.

So Missy wondered what story she would remember for young Master Malfoy, who her Mistress found worthy, and his battered young companion. She hoped it would be a good one.

Quickly Missy raced around the room, cleaning anything that need cleaning, she then moved to the bed and whipped the covers and sheet off, retrieved another set and made the bed hurriedly. She then took the dirty bed sheets and clothes left in the bed and those discarded in the bathroom down to the laundry and dropped them all into the incinerator. Master Malfoy would be pleased.

?\\\\\?

Harry stepped out of the shower and quickly towelled himself off, he then wrapped the towel around his waist and moved into the bedroom to retrieve the clothes Malfoy had left only to find a made bed, with new covers and no clothes to be seen. He quickly scanned the room, in case the house-elf, Harry could only assume that is what caused the clean, neat and tidiness of the room, had put the clothes elsewhere. Nope, nowhere to be seen. Crap, now what can he do?

/\\\\?

Draco was in the kitchen trying to determine what he could brew for dinner when a very disgruntled, very naked bar a towel padded into the kitchen, his bare feet slipping slightly on the wooden floorboards.

Draco's heart got caught in his throat, and he revised his opinion on Potter's scrawniness. Or maybe the muscle replenishing potion works better then he had originally thought. While Potter couldn't be considered anything but too thin, Draco could see that underneath his pale skin was sinewy, lethe, seeker muscles. Muscles that Draco knew Potter had worked hard to get.

Draco couldn't help but stare at the mostly naked boy; it wasn't that Draco liked him or anything it was just that he was really nice to look at. What now that the boy was free from any disfiguring marks except for a light purplish bruise around the ribcage area.

"Like what you see Malfoy?" Potter drawled slowly, causing Draco to jump. He quickly swallowed his heart, which was preventing him from talking and said, "Don't be ridiculous Potter, I'm just checking that the potions worked, that's all." Draco's brows furrowed.

"Potter…Why aren't you waring any clothes?" he asked in a bewildered fashion.

"Well Malfoy, I got out of the shower and there were no clothes anywhere in the room."

"Oh." Draco's eyes darted to the side, "OH. That stupid House-elf, that lousy, no good, dumb, repulsive, ghastly, ugly creature!"

"I wouldn't go that far." Harry tried to calm Malfoy. "I'm sure the House-elf didn't mean it." He said, not entirely sure what it was the elf 'didn't mean.

"Missy, you good-for-nothing cretin, come here!" Malfoy ordered abruptly. Instantly the small elf appeared before him.

"Yes Master Malfoy sir?" the House-elf squeaked.

"Elf, tell me, did you do as I tell you?"

"Oh yes sir," the house-elf beamed, "I cleaned the room, redid the bed and burnt the clothes."

Malfoy's eye twitched noticeably, "Are you saying that the new clothes I left him are now burnt as well?" he asked with deceptive calm.

"Er…I supposes so Master Malfoy sir." Missy whispered, she knew this wasn't going to be pretty. She was right. Master Malfoy exploded.

"WHAT! Do have any idea how expensive those were, can you have any concept of how badly you are going to Pay!" he roared. Had he thought about it more Draco might have considered the fact that he was going to give the clothes to Potter anyway. No way would he wear them after they'd be worn by Potter. But as it was rage got the better of his cultured self and so did hid body as he kicked the whimpering elf in front of him. He only had time to do it once, because long, bare sinewy arms wrapped around him and a nearly naked body rested up against his, he immediately calmed as he inhaled Potter clean fresh scent and his hands came to rest on smooth, soft, creamy white skin. He forgot the clothes, he forgot the Elf. All he could think about was the small, shaking body in his arms. Wait a minute, shaking? Draco woke up to the world slightly and looked down at the sobbing Harry Potter whose shoulders were shuddering with each breath he took, what the hell?

"P…p…please… please…p…please," the frail boy's voice quivered as he spoke, emotion heavy in his tone. "Please stop, don't hurt her, please. I can't bare it, please Malfoy, stop, please. Stop." Potter pleaded quietly, his breath brushed against Draco's neck causing shivers to tingle up his spine.

"Why?" Draco whispered though he was unconscious of doing so.

"Because… because it's wrong, it's cruel."

"Not good enough Potter, try again."

"Because, you sound just like him, you shouldn't sound like him. You're better then him, remember." Potter paused, "Isn't that what you always say, that you're better then them, but you sounded just like them."

Draco stilled, had he sounded like the muggles at Potter's? Had he truly sounded enough like that awful Troll to make Potter cry? Surely not! He was better then them, wasn't he?

/\\\\\?

Missy looked up at the dark haired human boy who had saved her from Master Malfoy's wrath; she could feel something akin to hero worship coming on and quickly shoved it aside. She didn't want to worship, she wanted to watch. That kind, sweet dark haired lad reminded Missy of the Mistress' partner; Maverick had been kind and smart and gallant, he never said anything cruel or unkind to anything, house-elf or no. He'd also been able to whip Mistress Malfoy's temper strait into line, if he thought she was indulging in the 'Malfoy tendencies' as she had liked to call them. And now it appeared that the inky haired lad, that obviously needed a good feed, had the same ability with the new Malfoy residing in the house. It made Missy very happy to see, very happy indeed.

TBC.

Well, I'm sorry for the late update, but one night about two weeks ago I was attacked by an anonymous hooded person and he held me in a basement at an undisclosed location, the person didn't tell me his name, all he said is "I am Block, Writers Block."

I truly thought I would never escape. Ahhhh I'm so glad I could finally get free of his painful clutches. But that was when I was then attacked by a bad case of the flu Sobs So anyways. I must say I apologise for the OOC-ness of Draco, but he took hold and ran away from me…and some how Harry became a girl. ; I am however Proud of my pervy Voyeuristic House-elf……should I be ashamed? nah!

Ummm, about the Cruciatus….it all for dramatic effect. Just take the random things that pop up as is and don't pay to much mind to it

Ohhh and I told you I would make Harry's clothes disappear. Yay for nakedness.

Now many thanks for my reviewers, I love you all, and I always appreciate the reviews.

Much Love Sanie.