Well, after finially adding chaper 4 to i got back in the mood to update this story more. that, and the fact there isn't much else to do on your father's laptop when your computer is rebooting. hope this gets a good response, both on and my blog. And don't get used to chapters that are long like this -- and yes, this is a long chapter compared to most of mine. I just happened to be in the mood to write tonight :) So, enjoy, and don't foget to review! The latest review I got made me get two chapters out in one night -- you never know what the next one might do:D
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Severus continued to watch his adoptive godson for a moment longer, before sighing resignedly, and pushing himself to his feet. "I'll transfigure you a bed for the night — but your father will be worried, Draco. Watch." When Draco merely continued to ignore him, however, he couldn't keep the customary scowl from gracing his features.
Draco merely continued to stare into the fire, lips pressed into a thin line, green eyes as cold as his mother's had been when she had first seen the dark mark on Severus' arm.
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When they had first seen the changes, his aunt and uncle had instantly decided it was his freakishness finially coming to the forefront. I mean, really Pet, who has white hair? Especially at hisage? Harry could still hear his uncle's words, ringing in his ears.
And he was right. Normal people — even by wizarding standards — just didn't have things like this happen to them. Ron certaintly wasn't having complete body changes, was he? And the Twin's hadn't drastically changed in appearance from when he'd first met them, in their 5th year. So no, this wasn't normal, not even my his stretched standards.
And even his skin felt strange, like it was stretched too tightly across his bones, like there was too much body there and not enough skin to cover it. It wasn't exactly the most pleasant feeling he had ever experienced.
It wasn't this feeling that woke him that morning, however. Nor was it the usual sound of his Aunt Petunia yelling for him to wake up and cook breakfast. It wasn't even his fat lard of a cousin tramping down the stairs, probably bemoaning the fact that he couldn't push his scrawny little cousin back into his cupboard as he finially made his way down.
No, this morning he awoke to yelling.
Now, that in itself was odd. Yelling at him, yes. That was a normal part of everyday life. But yelling when he was nowhere to be seen? And when his name wasn't even being mentioned? Now that was something altogeather different.
Pushing himself off his bed with a small groan, Harry quickly slipped into a pair of overly large black sweatpants and an equally large t-shirt, before slowly making his way toward the stairs, staring down toward the front door with some trepidition.
He couldn't see anything from this angle, however, only his Uncle's overly large behind, so Harry slowly made his way down the stairs, careful to bypass that part of the second step that always creaked. Before he had even made it halfway down the stairs, however, he caught sight of the telltale pale skin and gray eyes of Lucius Malfoy, and he felt his blood run cold with fear.
Lucius Malfoy. In his house. Talking with his Uncle. And Aunt. And Cousin. All Muggled. Not particularly the most pleasant of Muggles, to be sure, but he didn't want to see them murdered because of him. And there was no way Lucius Malfoy was not here because of him. Why else would a known muggle-hater (and harry-hater, really) be in a muggle house, down a muggle street, in a muggle neighborhood?
"For the last time, you overgrown toad, I am here for the bo- Ah. There you are. Get your things. You're coming with me." Harry gulped nervously at the realization that he had been spotted. before taking a hesitant step backward, momentraily entertaining the thought of fleeing. One look at the older wizard's eyes, however, and his partially raised wand, slowed down that train of thought, although it still lingered in the back of his thoughts.
"Wait, you want that boy?" Petunia sputtered, from where she had been attempting to hide Dudley behind her bony frame. "Not Dudley? Take him! We never wanted him here anyway." She said spitefully, sending a glare at her nephew. Harry simply gaped at her in astonishment, somehow dredgeing up enough hurt and betrayal to blurt our, "But your promise to Dumbledore…."
"Is only valid as long as strangers don't come traipsing in to this house threatening my family, boy! You heard him, get your ruddy stuff!" It was Vernon Dursley who responded this time, and Lucius found he had to grit his teeth to keep from casting the worst hex he could think at the overgrown tub of lard before him.
However, his thoughts were not solely fixed upon thoughts of how he dearly wished he could hurt the man before him. He was also keenly aware of every emotion, every flicker that crossed those expressive green orbs. Unlike Draco, Harry had yet to change in eye color, instead starting with his skin tone and hair colour, both looking unnaturally light against his vibrant green eyes.
And what those eyes were telling him, now, was that the boy was about to bolt.
"I think I shall accompany you, Mr. Potter. To avoid unforseen …. accidents." Harry silently cursed his hesitancy as that, slowly backing up the stairs, unwilling to turn his back on the silver-haired man slowly approaching him. Lucius merely smirked at that, keepoing his approach slow and easy, trying not to startle the boy.
To Harry however, it just made him seem like even more of a predator, stalking his prey. A prey named Harry Potter.
By the time they made it to his bedroom, the smirk had dropped from Lucius' face, to be replaced by a scowl as he took in the surrounding of Harry'd bedroom, from the bars on the window to the peeling wallpaper and sagging, stained matress, devoid of any sheets and with only a threadbare blanket as his only protection during the night.
Harry barely even noticed, however, still far too aware of the wand that Lucius had yet to put away. He was dimly thankful that the man didn't seem inclined to hurt his relatives, but that was little consolation for the fact that he probably wouldn't be so lucky. He'd seen what Lucius Malfoy was capable of, had seen him at the graveyard that fateful night ….
Blinking back the tears that night still brought to his eyes, Harry drew in a shaky breath, pushing the last of his belongings into the overstuffed duffle bag that was all he had anymore — his Uncle had thrown out his trunk earler that summer, or so he said. Harry was more inclined to believe he'd sold it, if the new living room couch was anything to go by. The same could be said of his birthday present from Hermione — a gold-plaited old fashioned pocket watch, with the latin word for truth etched on the back of it.
He missed the watch.
Peeling up the loose floorboard, Harry quickly finished stuffing those items, too, into his bag, silently wishing he had his wand, or, even better, that the entire Order would come crashing into his room at that very moment.
"Where is your wand?" Lucius asked, eyes narrowed as he surveyed the boy. He could have been hiding it under those ridiculously large clothes, but …..
"M-my Uncle, he took it. Put it in the cupboard under the stairs, sir." Harry gulped nervously, and suddenly Lucius understood. Understood why no curses had been thrown his way, no matter the laws prohibiting it outside of school. The boy could have easily claimed self-defense, and really, who would have blamed him? A man once suspected of being a Death Eater, suddenly appearing his house, apparently to steal him away from it in the wee hours of the morning?
Even his standing with the ministry might not be enough for something like that.
But the fact that somebody had dared to actually take a wizard's wand away … and a muggle, at that! How could they not understand that a wand was an extension of a wizard's soul!
The stupidity of the muggle population in general continued to amaze him, it really did.
Lucius turned swiftly on his heel, leaving Harry to stare after him in confusion, before he quickly picked up his duffle bag and followed the older man out of the room and down the stairs, where the Dursley's had since moved into the kitched, huddled togeather in fear of the fully grown, legally registered wizard in their house.
At any other time, it might have been a welcome sight. To both the magical males who came upon it that morning.
"His wand. Get it. Now." There was no longer any pretense of formality, or politeness in Lucius' tone. No longer did he try and play nice with the people who raised his biological son. Before, he had seen them as beneath him, as playthings for their Lord as he attempted to weed them out of a world that was rightfully that of the wizarding people.
Now, they were worse than that. Worse than a mere muggle could ever hope to be. They had hurt his son. Lucius felt a cold chill go through his body just thinking about it, just contemplating what it must have been like for Harry, all these years growing up under the thumb of this great tub of lard.
He'd often wondered at the boy's tendency to draw into himself, away from the people he supposedly cared about. Wondered at his small stature, at his seemingly nonexistant appetite. His son had even written home once to say that the "Potter Brat" had been sighed vomiting up his breakfast the other day. Even though he'd only eaten half a bowl of fruit.
Now he understood why. After all, forcing somebody to live in depravity was just a step away from depriving them of food, of starving them, wasn't it?
As his thoughts simmered and his hands clenched in anger, Petunia Dursley scrambled from her perch next to her husdband and son, obviously the more brave — and perhaps most smart — out of the trio, walking on unsteady legs toward the cupboard, just visible through the doorway.
"Don't do it, Pet! He'll curse us all into obilivion!"
Lucius turned back to sneer at the overly large whale of a man who had shouted the plea, gray eyes cold and hard. "I already have a wand, Mr. Dursley." And somehow, he made even the man's name come out as a curse, "And trust me, I know far more painful spells than Harry here could ever even dream of coming up with." He turned back toward the woman, who was now fumbling with the lock, fighting with the tricky combination, normally so easy for her to unlock when she needed the cleaning supplies she'd stashed in there with the boy's more valued posessions. Like his wand, and his broom. And that silly photo album of his parents. Now, however, her hands shook, so bad she could hardly hold the lock in place.
Finially, however, the lock clicked open, and she stepped aside as the frighteningly pale man stepped forward, a glare cast her way before he leant in to the small space, pushing aside the obscene muggle supplied blocking his way.
Petunia Dursley did the only thing she could think of. Push, shove. Lock. There. If Potter couldn't get out of the ruddy cupboard, with all of his magical abilities, then neither could this obnoxious man.
Harry simply stared at his aunt, eyes going round with fear as he stared at her. He took a hestiant step back, away from the cupboard, then two more for good measure. When Malfoy blasted his way out of there ….
Lucius rubbed absent-midnedly at his head, turning to glare at the offending piece of wood at his back, and the woman he knew to be on the other side. Really, all he needed was a firm alohohamara……
But maybe a little fear was needed? A little fear of wizardry, and just what could be accomplished with it?
Ah, yes. That would do just the trick.
Petunis yelped as the door to the cupboard suddenly blasted open, jumping back and screaming in fright and pain as a few shards of broken wood scraped her painfully on the arm. And although he knew it must have truly hurt, Harry couldn't help the small smile that crossed his face at her reaction. He really should have warned her …. but really, why else did she think he had been backing away like that? For the fun of it?
Lucius Malfoy stepped out into the entrance of the cupboard, brushing a few wayward bits of broken wood from his clothes, although one piece dangled from his hair, unnoticed. "Madame. I am a wizard. A fully trained, recognised wizard, with over 20 years of training and battle under my belt. Did you really think something as miniscule as a puny wooden door was going to keep my locked away?" Lucius took a step close with each word, until he was practically upon Petunia, one hand wrapped around her throat in a vice-like grip.
Petunia only made a choking sound in the back of her throat, eyes wide with fear, as Harry glanced between the two of them, wondering if the restraint Lucius Malfoy had shown up until now would become a thing of the past.
"Harry, get your things." Lucius commanded, eyes still glued on the frightened woman before him. Harry did as he was told, keeping one eye on his aunt and the silver-haired wizard until he could no longer do so and still follow orders. He got out of his former bedroom as quickly as he could, however, holding his most prized posessions close to his chest and he stared at the only two adults in the room, in the exact same position as he had left them.
"Do keep this encounter in mind. Others might not be so …. lenient as I have been." Lucius sneered, smirking at the woman's look of relief. "Allow me to leave you with a little …. reminder."
Harry started at that, suddenly fearful that the older man was about to use an unforgivable. He fumbled for his wand for a moment, but it was already too late — the older wizard was far faster than him, and had already had his in hand and ready.
A quietly whispered curse, that Harry was sure had never heard before, had Petunia down on the floor, clutching at her head, a small whimpering sound on her lips as Lucius turned and did the same to her husdband and cousin.
Before Harry could ask, or demand to know what Lucius had done, however, the silver-haired man offered up the information. "Experience it, Dursley. All the pain you inflicted on him, shall now be inflicted upon you. I really do hope Dumbledore's little rescue squad comes to get Harry soon — they'll be able to help you. Your little muggle friends will just claim you insane, and we can't have that, now can we?" Lucius merely smirked at his own private little joke, before turning and grasping Harry firmly at the elbow, steering him out of the house.
"You can't just leave them like that!" Harry exclaimed, jerking his arm away from the older Malfoy roughly, although Lucius was quick to reaffirm his hold on the boy's upper arm.
"I can and I will, now would you hold still? We can't have you splinching yourself, now can we?" Harry merely stilled at that, eyes going wide just before he felt the oddest sensation of being sucked through a drain pipe and spit out on the other end.
When he opened his eyes again — when had he closed them? — he found himself standing inside an overly large, yet sparsley funished, bedroom. A large, canopied bed stood in the very middle of the room, black drapering hanging from it and adorned with a heavy green and white coverlet. A tall, ornately carved chest of drawers stood on one side wall, beside two floor length windows draped in equally black lace curtains, while on the back wall Harry could just make out what appeared to be a large, walk-in closet, slightly ajar and already bursting with clothes.
"I took the liberty ot ordering some clothes in Draco's size — the two of you are close in weight and height, although you appear to be a bit smaller than he is. No matter, we can always have them adjusted." Lucius stopped to stare down at the boy, frowning. He really did have no idea what was going on, really ….. but now wasn't the time to tell him. "You won't be able to leave your room, I'm afraid, until all this has been sorted out and properly explained to you. Just ring that little bell on your bed and house elf will come to you, however — they have been instructed to bring you any form of entertainment you desire." Lucius strode from the room with that, smiling at the look or surprise and indignation on the boy's face.
Just as he was about to close the doors behind him, however, he turned to face his biological son again. "Oh, and I wouldn't try and cast any spells in here — you'll get a nasty little shock." Harry merely glared at that, before tossing the now pointless piece of wood — in his opinion — on to the bed, crossing his arms with an annoyed huff.
Lucius merely grinned at the sight he made, the very image of teenage annoyance.