Hey guys! Just a little note from me before you read. I wanted to address something I've noticed recently, and though there aren't a crazy number of instances on this site and everyone's been pretty great so far, I thought it was worth mentioning. This story IS M/M slash, though it will take a while to get to anything romantic or sexual in nature (because I am strongly against children and young teens being overly-sexualized) it Will happen.

I do not ask for much from any of you, but I do expect some level of maturity and tolerance here. If you do not like M/M slashes then you do not have to read it. Please, all I ask is that the comment section stays a safe place for everyone and that religious, political, and personal views on lgbtq+ stays out of my comment sections.

The comment section is for you, the readers, and I try my best to flag any harmful or hateful content before you have to read it, but I really wish I didn't have to and it didn't happen to begin with. That being said, it is TOTALLY okay to post criticism and opinions of my plot and my writing, but leave your views about lgbtq+ out of it. This is neither the time nor place.

If you really feel that you have to share that opinion or view and want to talk about it, I encourage you to message me personally and I will do my best to answer questions or at least pose some interesting thought points. Being a part of the community myself, I can do a pretty okay job of doing that. Otherwise, keep it off of this site.

Please be nice to each other, do not use my comment sections to spread hate, and enjoy the fic if nothing else.

Sorry for the long note, I just felt it needed to be said.

-Pleasant Readings!

Returning to the Dursley's wasn't like ripping off a Band-Aid, it was like getting your fingers caught in a wood chipper and slowly being dragged in. First there was surprise, then there was confusion, and finally there was outrage. Initially, Vernon had tried to force Harry bodily out of the house, but between brawn and magic, the latter usually wins.

When they realized Harry was staying, Petunia snatched his wand away and locked it away in the safe in their room. Vernon then grabbed Harry by the back of the neck and practically dragged him over to the cupboard, threw him in, and bolted it shut. The quick and unexpected act caught Harry off guard and gave Vernon the upper hand. Harry sighed as he listened to his trunk being dragged up the stairs over his head and being thrown into his aunt and uncle's room. Next, Harry heard the fridge being opened and closed several times, before they apparently moved on to the pantries.

Eventually, the long train ride and chaos of an entire school year caught up to Harry and he passed out on the familiar too-small cot he'd grown up with.

Later, Harry was jolted awake by the loud buzzing of power tools right outside his little door. Frowning deeply, Harry sat up and listened carefully. It seemed as though his uncle was drilling both into the door frame, and then the door. If Harry had to chance a guess, he'd say locks considering all the clanking of metal he could hear from the other side of the door. When Harry reached out his magic to touch the locks, his suspicions were confirmed and he found at least six heavy duty locks in increasing complexity.

Finally, Vernon began bolting something to the door that wasn't a lock. When Harry felt it out a little more, he was startled to find that it was just a steel plate that would have to be unbolted just to get the door open.

Insane. These people are complete nutters!

Later that night, after the house had long since quieted down, Harry felt the slight dull ache of hunger creeping in on him and he tried to summon some food from the fridge. Only, nothing came. Harry tried again and felt out with his magic, but using his magic to feel out like this for too long was draining. From the brief sweep Harry did through the kitchen, he found absolutely no food in the house.

That's what that noise had been earlier. Harry thought to himself, as he felt a slightly elevating panic. He couldn't summon food from any of the other houses around them, the distance would weaken the summoning spell too much and just cause whatever food he tried to summon to smash into their walls. He couldn't transfigure food either because transfigured food wasn't safe to eat and could cause major health problems later on down the road.

So . . . short of blasting his way out of the cupboard and robbing the nearest house, he was stuck without food for the first time in a long time.

Harry tried to sleep through it, sure that he'd be let out and fed in the morning, but Harry was now unused to trying to sleep through hunger pains, and ended up staying awake through the entire night. Come morning, Harry was still locked in the cupboard while the smells of bacon, eggs, sausage, and toast wafted through the little grate on the door from the meal Vernon had picked up from a local diner.

At noon, Harry was let out to use the bathroom, and then once more before they went to sleep. Otherwise, Harry spent three sleepless days and nights in his cupboard without food and with only one water bottle. After the third day, they began putting him to work around the house again, though they continued to get their food from elsewhere and made sure to leave none left over.

The fourth day came along and Harry was running on maybe a few little power naps, a second bottle of water, and a triangle of toast he'd nicked from Petunia before she shoved the rest of her half-eaten plate down the garbage disposal and washed the shredded remains down the drain.

By the fifth day, Harry felt strangely numb. Not only to the hateful comments from his relatives, but physically. Harry had horrible head rushes every time he stood up and it felt like his bones had been made of lead. It was on this fifth day that an owl appeared at the sliding glass doors that led into the back yard. Harry immediately checked to see that nobody was around, even though he knew that the Dursley's had all left ten minutes ago to go get lunch. Harry pulled open the door to let the regal brown and black owl into the house. It immediately flew up onto the dining room table and lifted the foot that had a letter tied to it.

Breaking the seal on the envelope and pulling out the single piece of parchment, Harry sat at the table and read the short letter as the elegant owl flew out the window without demanding treats or a reply like most owls.

The letter had been from Draco. Basically it said that Draco remembered Harry mentioning how much he didn't want to go to his relative's house for summer, with a very Draco-ish comment about it being obvious since they're muggles. So, since Harry couldn't live with this 'family friend' yet, Draco would be coming by to pick Harry up to spend time at Malfoy Manor until things were sorted with his guardian. The letter hadn't asked whether or not he would like to stay with Draco, it had simply stated a fact, Harry would be staying with him.

The letter gave no indication towards when Draco would be showing up, just that it'd be soon. Shrugging, Harry went back to scrubbing stains out of the clothes currently in the sink. Harry's day actually went a lot smoother now that he knew he wouldn't be waiting out his entire time until the trial at the Dursley's.

That night, when Harry laid down on his uncomfortable cot, for the first time in almost a week, he fell asleep immediately. . .

Unfortunately, Harry didn't stay asleep. At what must have been no earlier than 3am, Harry's sleep was interrupted by the sound of pounding on his door. No wait, not his door, but the front door of the house. Sitting up on his cot with his eyes still closed, Harry only distantly felt the rising panic amidst the cloud of exhaustion. Harry didn't want his aunt and uncle to be woken up, so he knew he'd have to get to the door first and stop whatever bastard was pounding on their door so late.

With a hapless wave of his magic, the door to his cupboard was blasted open within a silencing bubble. Harry stumbled out of his cupboard, over shards of wood, and up to the front door. Even in all of the pandemonium Harry still felt more than half asleep. Days upon days of sleep deprivation will do that to a person.

Unlocking the front door and pulling it open, Harry found a house elf standing on his front step. Harry blinked once, twice, three times before looking up from the floppy-eared elf and finally noticing the three figures of varying height standing at the edge of his lawn. Harry forced his eyes to focus for just a moment, before they blinked heavily.

"Draco?" Harry's mouth felt like it was full of glue and he wasn't sure if the boy had heard him, so he left the open doorway of the house and shuffled out into the night in only a too-large pair of blue flannel pajama pants and a large grey t-shirt. The dew of the grass was cold against Harry's bare feet and dampened the bottoms of his pant legs, but he paid it no mind as he approached the family of regal blondes.

"Harry," a woman spoke up from beside Draco, Narcissa Malfoy, Draco's mother. "You have to invite us past these wards so we can collect your things. Sorry to come so late, but we thought it best to do it at an inconspicuous time in case there's someone that watches the house during the day." Narcissa explained in a pleasant voice that sounded like bells, the epitome of motherly. Harry nodded his head jerkily and waved them forward.

"I invite you in." Harry stated, knowing that magic he didn't have a grasp on usually liked verbal commands. The Lord and Lady of the Malfoy line stepped past Harry and moved into the dark and still house. When Harry swayed on his feet a little, Draco quickly stepped forward and put a steadying hand on Harry's ribs. Feeling the exhaustion creeping up into his consciousness as his head bobbed a few times, Harry paid little mind to his composure and leaned fully into Draco, letting his head rest on his shoulder like a sleeping child as his arms hung limply down between them.

"'m just gonna . . . close my eyes . . . a second. . ." Harry mumbled into night air, not even sure if he was actually talking or if he'd already started dreaming. Arms wrapped around his back to keep him up and he slipped seamlessly into unconsciousness.

The first thing that registered was pain. Throbbing, radiating pain from within his skull that shot down the back of his neck. Harry felt like he'd been inflated past his body's limits, then deflated into a dried out husk, and inflated again. Clutching his head, Harry sat up, and before he even opened his eyes, he knew something was off. For one thing, there was an unbelievably comfortable bed underneath him with a fluffy down-feather duvet with an equally soft down-pillow that had been under his head. When Harry finally cracked his eyes open, he saw that he was in an unfamiliar—and huge—bed with luxurious black sheets, touchable soft green bedding, and opaque black bed hangings closed around him.

When Harry pulled back the black draping's he was hit with immediate stabbing light. Rearing back, Harry squinted narrowly out at the brightly lit room beyond and forced himself forward in order to adjust more quickly. When Harry could actually see, he took stock of the room around him. It was quite a large room with antique furniture, huge windows running the length of the wall behind the head board of the bed, and a color scheme of black, green, and accents of silver. Overall, the room looked like it had come straight out of Versailles.

Several pounding moments later, Harry remembered fuzzy snapshots of the night before. He'd been woken up by three Malfoys at the edge of his wards. If that wasn't strange enough, he was pretty sure he'd fallen asleep on Draco's shoulder last night. As if waiting for some divine que, the aforementioned blonde strode into the room with little care. Which meant that this was probably, in fact, Draco's personal room.

"Oh! You're awake. Good, I was worried you'd sleep straight through the day and night!" Draco smirked and plopped down on the side of the bed next to Harry's hip. Harry couldn't contain the yawn that pried his jaws apart, and right before he rubbed his eyes, Harry could have sworn he saw a flash of worry cross Draco's face, but when he opened them again, Draco was still smirking.

"How long was I asleep?" Harry asked, remembering the letter Draco had sent about him staying at the manor until his guardian situation was sorted out. Harry still hadn't told his friends who he'd picked to be his guardian, but he couldn't hide it forever. The trial would certainly be in the papers, along with the shocking news that the Harry Potter was suddenly in the care of an ex-Azkaban prisoner.

"Well, it's . . . 6pm now and we brought you here at three, so about fifteen hours? I don't know what you've been doing over the past few days to tire yourself out so much, but I'll certainly try to keep up the pace to keep you interested." Draco said with a clap on his shoulder and a cheeky smile.

Draco didn't mention how Harry literally fell asleep on him the night before, and Harry was more than fine with that! After another half hour of chatting, Harry got dressed and the two went on a short tour of Malfoy Manor—which overall had the same amount of excessive lavishness as Draco's bedroom—before dinner.

When the five-star restaurant worthy dishes were served, Harry tried his best not to tear into the mouth-watering food like a starved child. He was successful, for the most part, but that didn't mean that he didn't finish everything off of his plate short of licking it clean like he'd seen in the movies. And if Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy shared a look when they saw how much he'd eaten, Harry didn't take notice.

As promised, Draco indeed kept Harry very busy while he was there. Between flying around on brooms, wizard's chest, playing all sorts of childish games Harry never got to play like hide-and-go-seek, bribing house elves into making them sweets, and running around on the immaculate grounds surrounding the Manor, Harry fell into bed each night blissfully full of warm food and pleasantly exhausted from the day's events.

Harry's favorite part of the property was, without question, the gardens. On the side of the Manor there was a huge garden with white stones marking the walkways and a diversity of flowers and plants that had Harry smiling without even realizing. Before Harry went to Hogwarts, gardening had been a hobby Harry actually enjoyed. The concept that it was so easy to create life and nurture and cultivate it into something extraordinary really drew Harry in to the activity. There were so many different species and families of flowers and plants. Seeing all of your hard work come to fruition, it was a very satisfying feeling.

Whenever Draco got caught up doing something else or had to go with his parent somewhere, Harry would go down to the gardens and either walk around, breathing in the fragrances, or he'd just sit on a stone bench next to the large fountain or flower bushes and think. There was a touch of impersonality to the garden, it was quite obvious that the house elves maintained the gardens for the same reason they kept the lawns a certain length and quite thick—the bigger picture. It wouldn't do to have such a huge Manor and grounds if you didn't even have one garden. It was simply a part of the aesthetic.

Harry's days went on like this for roughly a week, the pattern was only broken by the lady of the estate. One day, during breakfast Narcissa Malfoy asked Harry if he'd join her for afternoon tea. Harry accepted of course, but he was wary of what Draco's mother could possibly want. Harry wasn't an idiot, he knew that the Malfoys were strictly a dark family, no matter what Lucius tries to peddle to the masses. Harry had heard plenty about how Lucius had been imperioed into taking the dark mark and serving the Dark Lord. Harry didn't believe that hogwash for a second.

Not only had the very being that, before Harry, had spent much of his time watching the Dark Lord had blatantly snorted and called bollocks when Harry had first heard about Lucius, but after meeting the man Harry just couldn't quite see as anything but a loyal follower. Sure, the man would probably always put himself and his family first—real knack for self-preservation that one—but when Voldemort returns, Harry has no doubt in his mind that Lucius will be there eager and willing when he calls.

When Harry showed up for afternoon tea with Narcissa, it was clear he wasn't having tea with just his best mate's mum, but the wife of a Death Eater, Lady from the Black family, and dangerous dark witch. It was the sharp edge in her smile, the venom in her voice, and predatory way her eyes tracked his every movement. The only way that Harry could confidently drink his tea and not fear it poisoned, was knowing that even if it was, he'd come back and give Narcissa the heart attack of a lifetime.

"Mr. Potter, I can't help but notice how close you are to my dear son, Draco. As you've probably heard, my family is not exactly light, you must see why this friendship might worry me, correct?" She asked in a seeming pleasant tone, but the look on her face said to tread carefully.

'Ah, so this inquisition is about Draco! I should have known that the Matriarch of the family would be just as dotting, adoring, and protective of her son as Draco seemed to be of his parents.' Harry mused, hearing the faint chuckling from over his shoulder. Instead of answering her question, Harry just smiled pleasantly and slid right into another topic.

"You know, it's strange. I feel like I already knew you and your husband before I even properly met you. You see, Draco talks about you two constantly! I don't think he even realizes how much. It's quite endearing, actually." Harry smiled to himself, remembering all the times he slipped unknowingly into conversation about his parents. Though it seemed he tried not to around Harry because he was an orphan, the blonde just couldn't help it!

Harry's smile faded and was replaced by a serious expression.

"I understand where your worry comes from, in the public's eye I am the beacon of hope for the light, while it is clear that Draco will carry on the pattern of dark wizards in both sides of the family. I don't expect any different and I won't in any way try to change that. I have no problem with Draco being a dark wizard . . . but it's not me you're particularly worried about, is it? No, you fear that light and dark might come to a head again and Draco will be caught in the cross fires." He analyzed, watching the minuscule twitch of one of her delicately arched eyebrows as he spoke and she sipped her tea.

Harry captured Narcissa's eyes and leaned forward, voice coming out grave with a finality that rose the hairs on the back of her neck.

"Know this, whatever your opinion is of me, do not doubt that I care about your son. He is the first friend I made when coming to this world, and almost the first friend period. I have very few friends, which means that the friendships I do have I treasure very dearly. Draco has given me something invaluable just this past year, and I will pay back in kind. Whatever happens from here on, even if we are no longer on amicable terms, know that I will protect Draco with everything I have. Whether he stays by my side or points a wand at my heart, I will do everything in my power to make sure he stays alive and out of the hands of those who wish to manipulate him. I cherish Draco as a friend, and as long as I still draw breath, he will be safe." Harry found the words surprisingly easy to say. Not because they were a lie, but because they were so true.

Narcissa looked very pleased by his words, and though not much changed in the overall appearance, she seemed a lot warmer and sincerer in her conversation. He thought that they were done in terms of what she wanted from Harry, but as the visit seemed to be winding down to an end, Narcissa grew serious again.

"There's one more thing. . . Several days ago, when my husband and I picked you up from your relatives, there were some things . . . worrying things we'd seen that I'd hoped you'd be able to clear up for us." Narcissa approached carefully, her face neutral with a small warm smile when she noticed Harry shift uncomfortably and wanted to reassure him or something. Harry sat up a little straighter and set his cup down on the saucer, not meeting her eyes.

"I see." Harry swallowed nervously. Honestly, he'd been expecting this since they showed up in front of his house. The Boy-Who-Lived spending so much time in their home, right under their noses, and an opportunity to get a little dirt on him? Who wouldn't dig a little?

"At first, we saw the empty bedroom and assumed it was yours," Narcissa carried on, "But there were just toys and storage bins. So we had to look around a little more and found all of your things locked (including your wand) locked up in your—I assume—aunt and uncle's bedroom. Then downstairs we . . . we found the cupboard." Narcissa was starting to look a little uncomfortable herself and her composure was slowly fraying at the edges.

"Well, I think you know what we saw there, and what we concluded from it." Narcissa waited until Harry met her gaze and nodded in affirmation before continuing. "I am appalled that it has gone on this long without anyone knowing, but . . . it is not my right to be delving into your business, from what I've heard, you are in the process of taking care of it already. I just want you to know that if something falls through with your chosen guardian or anyone else ever tries to force you back into that dreadful house, that my home is open to you. . .

"As a mother, I simply cannot allow another child to be knowingly placed in an abusive home. The fight between light and dark should not rest on the shoulders of children, and you should not be treated any differently until you hit adulthood and can make the decision for yourself. So, as long as you keep your promise to protect my son, I will continue to offer my home as asylum for you despite what may come to pass in the future." Harry had not been expecting that in the least! But never the less, he kept his composure and gave a solemn appreciative nod.

He should have seen it coming, though. Malfoys simply don't owe debts, to anyone.