CHAPTER NINE
[runaway]
DRACO
Draco's body was unbraced for an attack. One moment he was struggling to carry Harry's things out of the cramped cupboard, then the next thing he knew he was on the ground holding his bleeding nose with a ringing in his skull.
"Get out of my house you dirty murder!" A pubescent voice yells out, swinging his fist blindly in the darkness over him. Draco could barely make out the outline of a largely overweight boy towering over him. He quickly tried to scramble back to find the heavy truck trapping his leg underneath it's weight.
"Get out! Get out!"
Draco stares up at the frantic, sluggish moving body in a daze state. His mind hadn't quite caught up on what has happening yet. His face read like he had just been insulted instead of having been thrown down to the ground. It was crinkled just slightly at the eyebrows and his mouth dropped open just barely enough in disbelief. When it finally did set it, he almost scoffed out loud.
Fires of fury and hatred were smoldering in his grey narrowed eyes as he weighed the pros and cons of the various and creative means available to him for exacting revenge. He was a slytherin after all. No way in Merlin was someone going to step on his toes and get away with it.
Draco felt his body burn that way it always did before he was flooded with adrenaline. He quickly found the back handles of the trunk and chucked it off his leg before standing face first with the figure. Now that Draco had better vision, he could see through the glittering moonlight coming through the windows that the man was in a red oversize onesie that read Smeltings Wrestling Team and had an obnoxiously loud blonde bowl-cut. Draco's face shriveled up in disgust at the sight of snot on his upper lip. He unconsciously made the connection between him and an over-sized baby.
And oh boy. This had to be one of those bloody so-called family members thats caused those bruises on Harry's face.
Draco didn't know who threw the first punch, but suddenly Draco's fist was slamming into the other's face and sinking into his stomach. Blood pooled pulled around their upper lip. He had never punched anyone before, so he was incredibly surprised at the pain that blazed up his arm as his fist connected with their jaw. They stumbled apart for a brief second to observe they other before diving back at each other, eyes narrowed in determination.
He dodged his fist and came up with his own; for a brief instant, their cerulean blue eyes widened before he managed to tilt his head back and slam it into His. Stars burst in Draco's vision but he shook it off, blinding throwing a sloppy kick.
She stepped back, easily evading the kick. "INTRUDER!" He yelled again, his bottom lip quivering just slightly. Draco had no doubt he probably looked intimidating now. Pansy had once told him that when he was in a fight, his face changed into something else entirely. His face shifted into something more stoic and unchanging, because his eyes would hold everything it would ever need to. A lethal mix of cunning and passionate anger that any other slytherin would be jealous of.
The overweight boy threw his body weight behind the fist that edged closer to Draco's face, it hit my jaw with such force blood pooled into his mouth. Pain erupted from the point of impact. With Draco's own two hands he blindly grasped the other's head in his hands and brought his knee cap up to their noses. There was a blunt crack and he released him. Crimson leaked from both his nostrils and his nose was twisted right. The boy wasn't done yet though, as he drew his fist back again and it ploughed into his stomach, it was like getting his with a bludger head on. Draco's guts smashed together, blood vessels bursting. He repaid this by punching their jaw, his fist collided with all his small frame's body weight. He continued this battering until the loud thunk was heard and the brain-dead barbarian fell to the floor.
Draco didn't know how long he stayed there staring down on the unconscious body. He glanced down at his bloody hands. His mind was blank once again, filled with the sad TV static he couldn't quite shake off.
HARRY
Harry tried for the nearly eighth time to pull himself up from the bedrooms window ledge, and unsurprisingly, fell back to the ground arse-first once again. He nearly growled in frustration. What the hell was taking him so long?
An ever-growing knot in his stomach was growing the longer he was in there by himself. His brain immediately waved it off as the usual suspension you get when your bitter school rival was in your house (could he call it that?) by himself. But something was still off about that statement. What if something actually happened to him?
He was just about to try for the ninth time when he heard a caramel rich voice come from behind him.
"Oh Dear, what are you doing monkeying around at this time of night?"
He whipped around, hand flying to his backpocket where he usually put his wand, and nearly prepared to hex someone into the next solace. Harry let out a sigh of relief when he saw Ms. Figg in a yellow coat standing only a few feet away.
"I, uh…" He struggled to come up with an answer. What was he supposed to say? Oh my (somewhat) mortal enemy who just so happened to randomly wake up in my bed his morking and save me from my god awful relatives in the process is lurking around my house looking for my stuff so we can run away? Yeah, no.
"It's kind of a long story…" He settled on. He scratched the back of his head awkward sheepish smile. "And I kind of don't have the time to explain, I need to get up the win-"
He stopped midword when he noticed the small brown wagon she had following behind her. An idea formed in his head.
"Perfect."
Harry felt like he was out of place walking down the steps at night. He wasn't supposed to be out of his room without permission. It was one of their biggest rules. Despite knowing no one was there, he couldn't shake off anxiety that someone was about to come out of nowhere and hit him. He looked over his back at least three times already and it had only been five steps.
This entire thing was to nerve-wracking. He had no idea how he thought he could do this. He barely brought himself to leave the first time, how could he possibly manage it this time? It was like a sick monster was creeping up from the floorboards and was grasping at his ankles every step he took.
"Potter?" A voice rang out from the darkness. Harry's heart nearly leapt out of his chest.
"Malfoy?" He hissed. "What the hell are you doing taking this long? We don't have all night." He wanted to get out of here as soon as possible and the git wasn't helping him much. The bile in his throat was rising every minute they were in the ill-fated house. That is, until he reached the last step and swirled around the wall that separated them.
To say he was shocked would be to say the least. He was speechless.
He glanced down at the lumpy body in between both of them. Then do the blood pooled at Malfoy's lip and stained on his hands. It didn't take long to connect the dots.
"What in Godric's name..." He lets out a gasp. He takes two long strides over to where Dudley's body laud in the ground and knelt down. "Did you kill him?!"
He frantically goes to checks his pulse the way his Year 3 teacher had hold him once. It took a hot minute to find it under all the fat but let out a sigh of relief when he felt a small steady bump fight under the back of his jaw.
When he turned at last to face Harry there was no trace of tears, not in his eyes or in track marks on his reddening face. His eyes were narrowed, rigid, cold, hard. "What would it have mattered if I did? Hadn't he hurt you?"
" So what if he caused me more than my fair square of bruises! That's not a reason to kill someone!"
Malfoy looked as if he couldn't believe what Harry was saying. "He had thrown the first hit."
"Yes, but did you forget this was his house?"
"Did you forgot it was supposed to be yours too?"
Harry threw up his hands. "You're insufferable!"
Malfoy scoffed. "Please, I can't believe your even taking his side on this."
"I'm not taking ' his side' because first of all, he's unconscious." He gestured dramatically at the sack of meat below him. "And second, I would want to be as far away from this house as humanly possible if it wasn't for my wand and trunk. It's called, doing the right thing."
Harry sat up and wiped the dirt off his jeans. Malfoy's eyes travelled with him. His brows creased and face tensed as if he was looking at something a yard behind Gryfindors head.
Harry takes the time to notice that his lip was busted as well. He winced at the sight of it. He would have to Episkey it up when he finally got his wand and out of Privet drive. Until then…
He stepped over Dudley to get closer to Draco. He had to idea where the urge came from but he reached up and wiped the blood off his lip and chin with his thumb. He was almost done when he met Draco's watchful gaze and awkwardly pulled away.
Where the hell did that come from? He thought to himself. He had to remind himself that this was the person who constantly made fun of the Weasleys and called Hermione a Mudblood. Don't be stupid.
Harry coughed to clear the tension. He bent back down and found his trunk as if nothing had happened. He greedily opened it up as fast as he could and searched for his wand. His face immediately brightened when he felt the cool surface of the wood underneath his fingers.
There was something so intoxicating about finally being able to do magic again after so long. Being reunited with his wand every summer was amazing. It felt as if he was deflated ball finally being put back into use. He relished the feeling.
Malfoy raised an eyebrow at him. Harry was about to tell him to shut it when he remembered Ms. Figg standing out in the cold.
"Oh shoot!" He shot up, closing the top of the trunk and starting to drag it towards the door. "He have to go."
Malfoy didn't question him. He simply rolled his eyes and helped pick up the other side.
The two struggled the go get out the door. When they finally set it down on the damp grass Ms. Figg quickly came over to check on Harry. She lifted Harry's chin to examine him for any injuries before she had even noticed Draco standing awkwardly to the side.
"My heavens, a Malfoy? What have you gotten yourself into dear?"
Malfoy's face scrunched up. Harry's did slightly as well.
"It's fine, Arabella. He's with me."
"Well I don't find that very comforting either." She glared Draco down with a tilt of her chin. Harry felt himself anger slightly. Had she even met Draco before?
"Did you want the story or not?" He says, a warning laced into his tone of voice. She nodded.
Harry tried to fit all the most important details in without giving away why exactly they had ran away. She was silent but nodded her head throughout the whole thing listening.
"Oh, I guess I should go owl Dumbledore then. We might be able to obliviate his memory as well," she gestured to Malfoy as if he wasn't capable of hearing all of what she was saying. Harry saw the blonde's hand tightened into a fist out of the corner of his eye.
"No." He spits before thinking.
"Pardon?"
Dumbledore would make him go back to the Dursleys. The thought terrified him.
"No, we're not contacting Dumbledore. We can handle this ourselves."
"I have no choice dear. I'm under strict orders to tell Dumbledore everything odd that happens on the neighborhood."
"I said no." He repeats again. He was starting to panic now. Malfoy noticed and prepared to catch him if he fell. He couldn't go back. Not now, not ever. No. No no no. He refused.
"Calm down dear, I'm sure the Dursely's will be pleased to see you again." She smiles warmly at him and grabbing his wrist. "Now come on-"
"Petrificus Totalus!" He yells at suddenly, yanking his hand out of grasp and pointed his wand at the old woman. She falls completely frozen to the ground. Harry's eyes widen.
"We have to go."
