I have adopted this story from BlackSilkenKitty! She wrote this chapter NOT me!

Disclaimer: I own nothing! All recognizable characters belong to J. K. Rowling. I've adopted this story from BlackSilkenKitty! It's hers! I'll try and follow her plot! This story follows years 1-5. I might borrow details from other fan fiction, but nothing major; don't get mad. I DO NOT own Harry Potter. I hope this is what I need to say to keep out of trouble. :)

Warnings: This is SLASH! Don't like don't read! It has Self-harm (cutting) manipulation, child abuse. It's not a happy story! Very sad!

Pairings: HD/DM or HP/LY (TR), HG/PP, BZ/GW (Ginny)

Summary: Dumbledore has played with Harry's life since Harry was born. Now that Dumbledore's Mistakes and Action are coming to haunt Harry what is he to do?

Only one more thing. (This is how BlackSilkenKitty wrote it)

ooo - changes completely.

iii - same time other place

sss - same place other time

aaa - same time and place; different person

"Bla…" - Speaking

'Bla…' - thought or mocking the word or even only to use a word for another one.

:Bla…: - Parseltongue

«Bla…» - written text, letter or latter on Harry 'speaking'… you'll know in latter chapters

Sickness From Within Chapter 11 (BlackSilkenKittys' Chap)

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

For a day to begin wonderfully something wonderful had to happen. That was common knowledge to everyone. The only difference between that is the notion of the meaning of wonderful. For ones it would be waking up next to their life partner, the other one waking in a strange bed or even not on a bed at all. For others there was to be a wonderful meal or a relaxing shower or even, for some, to wake up and know that they don't have to care for their parents any longer because they left home.

And for others… for others a wonderful morning came in with the means of an owl. A black owl- a dangerous owl -with wonderful news.

Albus Dumbledore would have ripped eagerly into the letter if he hadn't been aware that even when alone he was supposed to be composed. Of course that did nothing to diminish the little shimmer of hope in his eyes and it didn't extinguish the excitement that the letter brought with it. Not even when Alarmia, one of the oldest Headmasters of the school in her green painting, shot him a questioning doubtful look. He had never liked Alarmia anyways.

So, taking his place behind the old desk, he opened the letter, the lightly yellow parchment rippling in his older hands, gently, soberly and, for every one that could be watching, without a rush. He couldn't suppress the smile that broke out on his old face as he read the first two sentences. The smile turned wider in the middle and he had to suppress a full out beam.

Yes, this was turning out to be a wonderful morning, a wonderful morning indeed.

/ooo/

Bill looked on as Ginny bonked Ron over the head, tossing her hair behind her shoulder as she glared at Ron.

Something had happened to the family, but he couldn't be sure what. They seemed more family now than before and he knew it shouldn't be like that, not when a war was coming up and Percy was still in his moods. Something had changed too in Bill.

It was his secret, his mystery, his own. No, it was Percy's too. It was Percy's because Percy was the same, only hiding in the ministry. He had to keep this safe. He had to keep this secret and not tell any soul. Sadly, not even Ginny... and he loved his younger sister, or Charlie... not even Charlie. And he regretted that. He was still hoping that one day, his family would open their eyes and see what was right in front of them.

He sighed in annoyance. He couldn't tell anyone and he wasn't allowed to work in the field, just so nobody would see him, so nobody found out who his real master was, and that was okay, because he didn't want to end up a cursed mess on a battlefield or even make Muggles suffer, just so he could make other wizards think his master wanted it... though, he knew his Lord wanted to only make them understand... and yes, maybe kill them too, because, damn, some of them deserved it and his Lord was right, because some were hypocrites and destructors and sometimes Bill hated the Muggles. Still, it got boring after a while because, the only thing he did anyways was stare, listen and report.

And Percy didn't work on the field either, and that came as a logical choice, because Percy just couldn't work and fight anyway, and damn, Percy could be so sneaky and Bill still couldn't believe they were working for the same person, had the same problems and thoughts. And the problem in it all was a simple question.

Had he made the right choice? Because Bill knew he was insecure and didn't know half the truths that probably would have influenced him into deciding what was right and what not. He knew one things though, he knew Dumbledore had manipulated someone he cared for, and not only Harry Potter either. He didn't like when someone messed with his family… at all.

He sighed, smiling as Ron ran away from Ginny and Ginny ran from the twins. Percy was the perfect spy though, perfect for spying for his – their – Lord, in the ministry, that is. He stood next to the new minister and heard about his plans for this fight, for this war and especially what the minister was planning to do about their Lord (And Percy refused to call their Lord 'Master', and yes, Bill understood why and would refuse to himself, but he couldn't because, in a way, his Lord was). And the minister wouldn't ever suspect Percy of working for someone else, who was from outside of the ministry, especially not for their Lord... especially not their Lord, because Percy just wasn't the type who seemed to be into improbable fights or even dangers. But if Bill new one thing, it was that Percy was a fountain of surprises, even after living with him for years.

Bill smirked as the four teenagers ended up in a heap on the sofa.

/ooo/

A small Goblin, named Sally Soundfer, was sitting at her desk, leafing through the files of the young Harrold James Potter who had recently left the building... a good two days ago, which according to the youngest elf in the bank, was very recent. It wasn't strange at all that they had assigned her to take a look at the young boys files. So that's what she did, because she had to work in Gringots or go accept the open Job back in the hellish bank near Yorkshire (?) and that was the lowest place to be working at, because York's bank was the lowest bank there was. But it seemed it had been a good choice to work at least one month in so many banks, because... Merlin, how many accounts did young Harry have?

She leafed through the New York file, then the Spanish file, the Russian file and Sally Soundfer was glad she had paid attention in her Multilanguage class, because she had never seen so many accounts counted together and from so many places at that too... and there seemed to be a mistake, because it seemed that young Master Potter had been adopted into these families from whom he was getting his inheritance now... that was something impossible. The boy should be dead by now… or, well, he should have died at the Dark Lords hands too, so maybe it did make sense to her, in a way.

Sally decided that somehow, the small, unimportant job she had received had just accumulated to massive heights and importance, and, for the first time since she'd started working, she wasn't complaining about having to work at something as tedious as paper work, because this seemed to be turning out to be more interesting than the other work the older Goblins were proposing her to do. She stood up and went to the family department. She had a job to finish and a mystery to solve… and a few Goblins to show up.

/iii/

"And where are we going?"

Hermione sighed and tugged at Harry's arm a little more insistently, keeping a stern expression on her face, smiling at a few people here and there. Madeleine had gone off to buy Harry clothing at a shop that Harry had never heard of. Harry still didn't want to appear in public, at least for a while and he didn't want to have more people than necessary around him.

"Just hurry up, I'll tell you when we reach there!" was Hermione's helpful reply, sending him a playful smile over her shoulder as she kept pulling on his slightly injured arm (he had gotten better after many a healing potions and other things and charms he couldn't remember taking).

Harry tried to roll his eyes, but that made his head hurt again and he'd found out about that sooner in the day and hadn't attempted to do it again, of course until now.

His right ear twitched... he lamented the fact that he had acquired some 'catty' habits, since he had awoken from the last conversation with Hermione the day prior. Things that hadn't bothered him before now made him get unnerved fast, little things, for example his hate to water (of course, unlike cat's, as soon as he had gotten into the shower he didn't want to leave the warm spray of water), the unusual urge to curl up in bed, his smelling ability having improved pretty well (which was starting to give him a new headache because people were so smelly, with perfume, cologne and all those other things they had with them...) and his hearing had improved so much that he had heard the rat who had just disappeared into the gully... That and everything else and Harry wanted to hide in his - Hermione's - The Leaky Cauldron's - any - bed at all, indulge in some cat things (mainly the curling up in bed) and not come out again until he knew he could at least hear normally.

And there was that damned itching between his shoulders where he knew his wings were hiding. He had been suppressing the urge to find out how to free them and flap them, because he hadn't been imagining them either... his life was fucked up, but he wasn't mad still... or well, he hoped he wasn't.

Hermione tugged harder on his arm trying to get his attention, making something in his arm, that hadn't yet healed, hurt and a flash of fear coursed through him, and he knew he could trust Hermione, really, he did, so he stopped the flinch just in time as Hermione gave him a smiling look over her shoulder. Tugging his arm out of Hermione's grasp, he glared at her jokingly, not letting Hermione show how afraid he was of touch. He didn't want to hurt her... he trusted her, over everything else. But it had been a rule, while he was packed in the dark cupboard or in his room: 'Don't touch and don't ever show what you feel. We don't need freakish sentimentalism.' Both had helped him out numerous times when he had to go shopping for Ver-

He stopped right there and cleared his mind of any thoughts at all, including the random thought that he actually liked the smell of Forget-Me-Nots.

Hermione was looking at him with a strange glint in her eyes but said nothing, which Harry found strange, and they continued on their way.

"'Mione, can't you please, please tell me where we're headed?"

"Somewhere, Harry... oh, here we are then!"

If Harry hadn't been so aware of his surroundings he would have missed the sudden appearance of a small house with dirty windows and a door which was falling off its hinges. It looked like it belonged to Knockturn alley, only it didn't... It looked light, if not old and the small blue flowers on its front would certainly look odd and misplaced had this little hideaway been in Knockturn Alley. It looked, in other words, too cute to belong someplace else, apart from Diagon Alley and still strangely out of place.

Harry looked doubtingly at Hermione.

"You sure this is what we're... you're looking for?"

Hermione did huff, but smiled anyways. "Have I ever been wrong?"

"No, but-"

Harry couldn't say anything more to it, as Hermione had already pulled him into the old house, the bell above the door ringing happily, while Hermione prattled on and on about something or other, including Charms and Tattoos and 'I-Hope-You-Like-It's. For Harry the world stood still.

The sight before him was magnificent, creepy and shiver giving... It was huge! There was something resembling a Shelf before him... filled to the top with strange artefacts, books, necklaces... everything he could imagine... and next to this shelf was another and another. Shelf after shelf. Next to each shelf was a passage where millions of ladders where hung next to each of the Shelves. It was beautiful, awe-inspiring... Harry took one step into the corridor made by those shelves and looked into the other side of the room. It didn't seem to end for a bit, until he noticed that the other side of the room (the end was pretty far away though too) was made of a strange kind of mirror that didn't reflect him, only Hermione and made some other items on the shelves glow a dark blue mingled with purple and red.

Harry was awed.

A tap on his shoulder made his room-ogling stop and turn to face Hermione, who, to his surprise, was accompanied by a small woman with dark-blue hair and brown eyes. She was a bit small, looked to be thirty or even forty and was a bit on the chubby side. To cut things short, she looked nice, sweet and cuddly.

Harry took a liking to her immediately.

"Welcome to Stefanias. New customer?" the woman asked. Her voice reminded him strangely of a Tangerine and she smelled of them too... her voice didn't hurt his ears either, which was strong since the room seemed to make a huge echo. Harry nodded in affirmation while Hermione smiled at him from halfway to the other side of the extremely long corridor.

"Well, then... hi!" she said cheerfully, grinning and smiling. "I'm Richarda, but you may call me Riki or Blue. I'll be your help for your stay and I think you don't know what Stefanias is, am I right?"

Harry nodded, took a deep breath and explained how Hermione had dragged him here without explanation. "And my name is Harry Potter." He finished.

He was expecting something as he mentioned his name, but hadn't been expecting the warm smile and Riki turning her back on him, motioning him to follow.

"Now, Harry, I want you to understand that this shop isn't an ordinary shop, like Madam Malkins or Billidister (Harry didn't even ask what that shop was). My shop is unique too... Stefanias is a very old shop, a shop that opened about only a decade after Hogwarts founders opened the school even - You are one of Hogwarts students, aren't you? – and has been widening itself ever since. Our items, that we sell, aren't in any way connected and only some people come here, since it's very hard to find. We sell what a person most needs from this shop and we sell those things that wizards and witches simply want because they find it useful or find it pretty."

They were walking the corridor made by the lining shelves, to the mirror where Riki stood, sending it a loving glance and putting her hand on the surface of it gently; as if afraid the simple touch would break it into a million translucent pieces.

"This mirror will show you what you most need from this shop. The items that it chooses for your benefits are highlighted with a glow of some sort, probably different varieties of whites, some people have their glow with colour. The prices are fixed, not by object but by need... the stronger the need the cheaper it gets, the more you want the objects without a specific need for it, the more expensive it gets. There are some objects that will simply refuse to leave with you, if you don't actually need it. Should that be the case, the money will be returned instantly. I'll leave you to your own... if you need any help, I will be at the register."

Her voice had been professional, too business like and she didn't look like a woman set for business. Her smile wasn't.

As she left him to his own, Hermione stepped up beside him and looked into the mirror for herself...

" You know, when I look into the mirror I don't see anything at all, apart from a few small glows scattered here and there... maybe three... I guess I don't need much at the moment, either. And anyways, I've got so much anyways. What about you, Harry? You see much in it?" She did look a little pale, around the cheeks and eyes. He didn't know why she looked like she did in the mirror because, when he looked at her in person she looked all tanned and not pale at all, but he shrugged and stepped away from the girl and walked to the far shelf where a seldom item was glowing appealingly at him. He send another fleeting look at the mirror before picking the mirror-glowing thing and glancing at it.

The little thing he held in his hands was a small necklace. Harry didn't know why it could be important, apart from the fact that it was very pretty and seemed to have a glow of it's own, that was emitting from the glittering substance inside of the flask that hung by a silver cord. Around the clear flask was a small rose, petals facing down, made of some glittering metal that looked like silver, imbedded with green stones to do the stem and red stones to do the petals. It curled itself around the flask, seemingly holding it to the necklace.

He took it and moved to the next item.

Hermione stood off to the side, picking random objects and smiling a few times, even chuckling to herself for no apparent reason.

They did shop for about an hour because the shop was amazing, it had so many things, even things you couldn't imagine. When Harry and Hermione walked up to the counter both had a sorting of numerous things, some they needed, some they didn't, and when they, after paying, left the shop, nothing seemed to want to fly back into the shop, like Riki'd told Harry before, that it could happen.

Harry was happy... it had been a strange day so far.

/iii/

When Draco woke up, it was to murmurs coming from the other side of his room. He'd had the urge to take a nap, before going to greet his guest who'd be arriving shortly. He didn't know if the persons murmuring outside his room knew he was awake or if they understood that he had a spying spell all over the hall that his room was in. He knew, though, that they were talking about him, and he didn't want to let them know that he could hear every last word they said as clearly as if he were right next to them.

"I don't think that he will manage it, after all, it's Draco... They've been enemies since their first year!"

So, they were talking about him and Potter, he presumed... he didn't have enemies worth talking about and Potter really was the only worthy enemy to gossip or comment on. He laid back and listened.

"Maybe he won't, but we'll have a chance at this, as much as he will. Narcissa, don't think that we're incapable. If Draco can't or won't manage to convince him that our side is better off, we'll have to try our own luck. But we can't just let him do everything alone. You know the Dark Lord, I don't want to imagine what'll happen to him if he doesn't manage to convince Potter."

There was instant silence. After a while his mothers voice, now slightly shaken and apprehensive spoke

"Yes, I know, but... what you're thinking about... no, not on Potter. He wouldn't manage it. And anyways, our Lord said unhurt... if you brake him... I know. The poor boy, he's halfway broken anyways. We'll have to heal him first too. No, don't break him, it wouldn't be worth it."

Braking Potter! Now Draco didn't want that. If Potter was broken, who would he have to exchange some nasty curses with? Or even send those hexes he'd learned last month? And the only person allowed to break Potter was Draco. No, he didn't want Potter broken. A broken Potter wasn't fun, wasn't Draco's Potter. There was something else about it, nagging at him in the back of his mind, but he ignored it, as he usually did to those things he didn't really understand.

It wasn't necessary to dwell on something that wouldn't occur anyways, if he had a say in the matter...

He sat up and rubbed his eyes when he heard one of the persons open the door, and his mother, along with another woman he knew he'd met once some long time ago, stepped into his room, the familiar stranger wearing a dress in light blue tones that fit her light blue eyes and her equally pale hair. His mother was sporting a purple dress-robe, with the blue ornaments hanging from her waist. She looked as beautiful as always, even if her hair wasn't as perfectly done as it usually was every day. The woman send him a fleeting cold smile, a greeting then left.

"Draco? Son? " Draco looked at his mother, before sitting up fully and sending Narcissa a nod and a rare truthful smile. "Yes mother?" she just looked at him, a warm yet cold smile fixed on her lips and shook her head. Sitting, she picked up his hand and laid it on her cheek. Then she stood and left.

Draco didn't understand his mother, at times, but he continued loving her nonetheless. He fell on his bed again and thought about the rest of the day he'd have in front of him. His guest should be arriving shortly and he was in need of a shower (even if he had already showered once in the morning). He hoped the confrontation he'd be having in his home wasn't too big as to not cause a further confrontation with his father... and he would be having the job to calm the-boy-wonder down... well, lucky him.

He couldn't say, though, that he wasn't curious.

/ooo/

«Dear Albus

Your letter surprised me in ways that I cannot describe. It is true that our meetings have been so few in the past time, that I had completely forgotten that you had your own to lead.

The fact that you require my services astounds me, but pleases me at the same time. I have, as a matter of fact, been doing outside jobs in the mean time, but I hope I can meet this friend of yours you're talking about. And yes, of course I understand all about his fascination with Wolves. His friends should come in handy, in my jobs, thank you for that information.

I'd like to know what my gift is going to be, after I visited your friend and if said gift is divisible, if it would be possible for me to receive the half of it in advanced, just so I get a little taste that'll make me enthusiastic to meet said friend. I hope this is not a problem, the last couple of months have been a bore for me.

On another matter entirely, yes, it is sad that my son has run away. Maybe you know of a place where he could be hiding? Be aware, of course I'll be looking for him. I don't know what you mean by specimen though, I, myself, would say hybrid. I'm sure you know he looks just fine. I trust your fantasy and your inner eye.

Sadly our meeting at the fifteenth is out of question. I will be away for a longer period of time, dealing with a few jobs here and there over in the warm sunlight and heat of Spain. I hope you understand this. And don't worry, my own Clan has been so kind as to send some... contacts with me, even if we're not on the friendliest speaking terms. Please let me know if I can do something for you in Spain, maybe stretch my arms out to touch places that you can't reach?

Sincerely

Grisela Ruther»

/ooo/

When Harry stepped out of the Floo Connection he didn't actually know what he was thinking would jump him on the other side. Or even what would happen if he stumbled or coughed or something remarkably

stupid happened that would make him look foolish. He knew, from an earlier conversation with Madeleine, that he was going to another place where Hermiones mother knew he would be protected and wouldn't lack in anything at all. He also knew that both, mother and daughter, where going home today, to sort things out with Hermione's father, but only after Harry had lived himself in a bit and had gotten used to the hosts.

Harry didn't know what to expect. He hoped it wouldn't be something completely horrible, something with twelve legs and half a head, but he knew he had to take everything that was thrown at him head on... it was the un-known that had made him shake before leaving. It was the surprise that made his mouth stand open.

"I'm not here."

Hermione did stumble, something Harry had managed not to do, upon arriving in the fireplace of the house Harry was standing in. It had a ridiculous long name, something like 'Mansion of the Great Moons in the Seventh Sky' (Harry suspected he'd gotten it wrong, but since it had been Madeleine calling out the place's name he'd ignored it), so Harry hadn't had a single idea where he'd be gone off if not for the fact that Narcissa Malfoy and Draco Malfoy stood before him in all of their white blonde arrogance... and beauty.

"Hermione? I think we got the wrong house..." really, Harry didn't want to sound rude, but he was standing in his supposed worst school enemy's house. And said enemy was looking at him in a funny way, Harry could surely say he most definitely didn't like. He was forced to take a step forward when Madeleine came through so she had the needed room to step out of the fireplace.

Hermione's mother dusted herself off, shook her head to dislodge any rust and ashes from her hair, stepped forward in three graceful steps and embraced Malfoy Juniors mother. Harry stood and stared as Draco Malfoy came forward, gave a bow to Hermione, kissing her hand then turning to Harry, giving a half bow too.

"Potter. Welcome to Malfoy Mansion." Harry was shocked, beyond shocked, that Draco could be remotely polite to him, that he'd show any sign of respect was a huge surprise...

'Maybe' Harry though 'Just maybe he'll grow up to be a lesser nuisance than he used to be'

Harry could have sworn he'd heard Madeleine saying in her rich voice "Narcissa! I'm so glad you took us in."

He wondered how and why the Grangers – or was it only Madeleine and Hermione? – were so familiar with the Malfoy's, considering Hermione always had hated Draco as much as Ron had, how they came to take both Harry and the Grangers in, what the connections between them were. And they didn't seem to fit at all.

Mudbloods to boot and the pompous purebloods of the century. An unlikely match if Harry'd seen any.

But for now, Harry would follow Madeleine and the Malfoy's. If he got lucky he'd get some answers. If not... Harry already knew that questions was a thing nobody appreciated... especially not people who were above him.

Harry really hoped he didn't have to ask.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Author's Note: I adopted this story, and won't be changing the chapters that BlackSilkenKitty wrote! I only hope that I can do this story justice. If she ever decides to continue she just has to tell me so, and I'll give it back to her! Hope you all like the story!