6 June 2008 A/N: Many thanks to all the people who added/reviewed:
-drdeth2000
-jabarber69 : Though right now you might think Dumbledore is an absolute moron, you'll see why he did what he did later on. After all, Dumbledore is the greatest wizard of his time—how could he make such a mistake?
-LadyGaelen
-Darkveelia88
-Relvain Jenafuse
-phoenixi77
-Ryukpet
-Destenys Angel Pyra
-Isebas
-Tiffany's Hogwarts Secrets
-pacific.coast : Yes, the beginning is a bit rushed. This is because it's just boring background information that is needed only so the rest of the story makes sense. I'll try to slow down the pace a bit—if you think it's still rushed, please tell me.
Oh yes—I'm going to try for 3000+ word chapters from now on. However, if you prefer short chapters (and tell me this, as I'm not psychic), I'll keep the chapters shorter. On the other hand, if you like massive, 7000 word chapters, tell me that too. XP Enjoy!
Chapter Two
Seven years later (Harry is 8 years old)
"OUT! GET OUT!" Vernon Dursley yelled, glaring at his freak of a nephew. "I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR ODDNESS! NOW GET OUT!"
Harry scampered out the front door with wide eyes, his right hand clutching his left arm where his uncle had struck him. Running as quickly as he could, Harry began to cry as he ran, thinking of all the terrible things he wished he could do to his bloody uncle.
Tiring from the sprinting, Harry stopped at a park and sat heavily on a bench, wondering what he could do. He had nowhere to go, no money, and could do absolutely nothing. What would happen to him? Harry definitely didn't want to be picked up by an orphanage—all the books he had read about orphanages had depicted the places as dreadfully horrid. Thus, Harry got up, and kept walking.
--
Harry had walked for hours. The sun had long since left the sky, and the night brought with darkness a chill that sunk deep below Harry's skin, leaving him shivering miserably. Harry finally reached a shopping district, the same one the Dursleys had brought him to when they were shopping for Dudley's birthday presents.
Spotting a loud, warm-looking pub with a large banner proclaiming it the 'Leaky Cauldron,' Harry scurried into the building and hoped he might be able to stay for a bit.
Inside the Leaky Cauldron were many very odd-looking people that Harry thought were slightly insane. They were all very strange, dressed in a multitude of colored robes and cloaks. Each odd-looking person carried a stick, which were each nicely polished and powerful-looking. The odd people within the pub had conversations about equally odd things, things that Harry had never heard of before, such as 'Quidditch', 'Gringotts', and 'muggles.'
It being quite late, the pub was mostly filled with adults. Harry hid in a darkened corner, wondering what he should do (as he warmed up a bit). Feeling tired, Harry was about to doze off right when someone tapped him on the shoulder and rudely asked, "Who are you?"
Whirling around in shock, Harry turned to find his botherer a blonde haired, snooty looking boy about his age. The boy sniffed and stared at Harry a bit.
"Are you deaf or something? I did ask you a question."
Harry opened and shut his mouth a few times in disbelief.
"I- um, I'm Harry. Harry Potter", he said, holding his hand out for the blonde to shake.
"Draco. Draco Malfoy. Good to know that you're a Potter, and not some random, filthy mudblood", Draco replied, taking Harry's hand. Draco's mouth curved up into a small smile. "Come with me, I would like you to meet my father."
Harry followed Draco obediently, thinking that whatever happened to him couldn't place him in a situation worse than the one he was in at the time. Meanwhile, he was wondering what mudbloods were, and whether or not the name Potter had some other meaning.
Draco and Harry stopped in front of a tall, aristocratic man with long, white-blonde hair.
"Oh? And who is this, Draco?" the man asked, his eyes on Harry.
"Father, this is my friend, Harry Potter. I found him in the Leaky Cauldron."
Harry, a bit taken aback, gaped at Draco. He seemed to have missed an important situation where he and Draco had suddenly become friends.
"Ah…I see. And Harry, where are your parents?" The elder Malfoy asked, looking down upon Harry.
"D-dead. I mean, my parents are dead", Harry said, fidgeting uncomfortably. With the Dursleys, he was forbidden to talk to any adults and felt the sudden influx of attention slightly uncomfortable.
"Are you alone, then?"
"Er, yeah. My uncle got kind of mad…I got kicked out…they don't like my freakiness much…" Harry said trailing off as a mixture of anger and sorrow filled him.
Draco's eyes widened when he heard this.
"What do you mean, your freakiness?" Draco demanded, angry on Harry's behalf.
"Well, um, weird stuff. Like, weird things happen when I'm upset or angry. Er…stuff like once, where my hair grew back overnight even though it was practically shaved off the day before. And like…well, weird stuff. I swear I didn't do it! I don't know why it happens! It just does. And they don't like it."
Harry looked down at the floor in shame, recalling the many punishments he had received because of his so-called freakiness.
"That's accidental magic, you dolt. What were you raised by, muggles?" Draco scoffed.
"Er…what?" Harry looked at Draco oddly, confusion flitting across his face.
"Magic? You know? Oh god, you really were raised by muggles, weren't you?" Draco stared at Harry for a good while, and Harry looked away, feeling self-conscious.
"Father?" Draco asked, cutting into Harry's little moment of self pity. "Can we bring him home?"
Harry's head snapped up, a hopeful look on his face.
"Harry is a person, not a pet, Draco. I would be alright with it, but I believe you need to ask him first," Lucius Malfoy replied, his mouth pressed into a thin line.
"Harry! Do you want to come home with me? I mean, since you've got nowhere to go…"
"I'd love that! Thanks." Harry smiled shyly at Draco, and Draco grinned in return.
--
After a long day of wandering about and introductions to the paraphernalia of the wizarding world, Lucius Malfoy took Harry and Draco to Malfoy Manor. The manor was a massive piece of architecture that was all perfectly straight lines, and perfectly orderly design. The perfectly rectangular manor sat in the middle of a perfectly square plot. The lawn was immaculately cared for, and the most direct path from the black iron gates to the manor's front door was rimmed by roses of all sorts. If one viewed the Manor from above, one would see the perfect grass of the lawn dotted by large circles of flowers planted in patterns. The Manor itself was massive. Its walls were a slightly grayish white color that seemed clean, but not outstanding. The only part that stuck out from its rectangular form was a curved balcony that topped the half-circle shaped porch to the front door. And the door itself was massive—suitable for a person two times the height of Hagrid—and decorated with simple, clean lines of artistry.
Upon seeing Malfoy Manor, Harry's mouth dropped open and he stared, taking in the splendor of the place. Draco pulled him along, and they entered the Manor.
Entering through the front door, Harry was struck by how uncomfortable the inside looked. He thought he should have expected it, however, after looking at how well kept the exterior was. The walls were pristinely bleached a slightly off-white color, and a massive spiral staircase led up out of his vision. The floor was a slightly speckled white marble.
"Draco, show our guest around. You know where you can and can not go," Lucius commanded, nodding to Harry. He then whooshed away up the stairs and left Harry and Draco standing in the silent first room which Harry silently dubbed the White Room.
"Alright! Let's go. First, I'll show you the normal rooms," Draco replied, leading Harry away from the staircase.
"This is our living room," Draco said as he brought Harry into a massive, dark room. The lighting was fine, Harry thought, but everything was decorated with deep green drapery. Though the dark green couches appeared more comfortable than the stiff wooden chairs that were in the White Room, everything still felt untouchable to him. Grinning conspiratorially, Draco whispered to Harry, "Father likes to bring people here to scare them." After that little comment, Harry looked around more carefully (and a bit nervously too).
"This is the dining room," Draco announced, showing Harry a very formal-looking room that was decorated with shades of dark blue. Light specks of silver surfaces throughout. A long table stretched across the room with many expensive looking chairs neatly placed around it—thirty or so, Harry thought.
Draco showed Harry room after room and Harry was beginning to wonder where the Malfoys lived (as each room seemed more uncomfortable than the next) until Draco brought Harry upstairs.
"You see, our house is really light and dark. The dark part is all in the front. I think father likes scaring people. But up and in the back, it's all comfy and nice. Oh yeah, don't go to the third floor—even I'm not allowed up there. If you see mother, just nod and smile. She'll fuss over you like crazy, so avoid her like the plague. Which room do you like the best? What do you want to do now? Ooh! I haven't shown you my room!" Draco babbled eagerly, practically bouncing up and down after the excitement of having been with someone his age for nearly a day.
"Draco, I believe you should show Harry his room first," Lucius said, coming down a set of smallish, hidden stairs from the third floor.
"Oh yeah," Draco said, grinning sheepishly. "C'mon!"
Harry obediently followed Draco (again) and was brought into a long, regal hallway that was decorated with many paintings.
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry spotted what he thought was movement. Harry twitched and turned to look at what moved, only to find that he was facing a blonde Malfoy ancestor who frowned condescendingly down at him. Gasping, Harry stuttered out, "D-Draco! The painting moved!"
Draco stared at Harry oddly, pausing for a moment.
"Of course it did. Haven't you see seen a painting move before?" Draco asked incredulously.
"I- well- I was raised by muggles, remember?" Harry grimaced, feeling stupid.
"Oh right, I forgot again. That's okay. Well then, I'll just have to show you the world of magic, huh?" Draco replied nonchalantly.
"Um, okay?"
"Off to your room then!" Draco said, pushing Harry forward.
The room Harry was given was quite large, about two or three times the size of the Dursley's second bedroom (and Harry had thought that large, especially compared to the cupboard under the stairs). The whole room was, in general, a silverish color. There was a huge, floor to ceiling window that made up one wall, and the other three were painted with blue and silver swirls. The door they had entered by had a partner on the opposite wall, one that Draco explained led to a private restroom. There was also a walk-in closet that was much larger on the inside than the outside. (Draco said that all the rooms and closets and spaces of the Manor were magically enlarged, whatever that meant). In the corner was a very large four-poster bed with dark blue sheets and silverish pillows. The lush carpet was a silver-flecked blue color. A simple but elegant desk was in another corner with a neatly placed stack of parchment, an ink bottle, and several quills.
Walking into the bathroom, he discovered a white-marbled floor with an equally white-marbled counter in front of a mirror. Flawless off-white porcelain made up the sink and bathtub, each with a hissing stone snake as the faucet, and two stone dragon's wings as the tabs. A little door revealed the toilet, which had, to the side, silver toilet paper. A small, bottomless silver basket was identified by Draco as the wastebasket.
"The room is amazing! Thank you so much for letting me stay here, Draco," Harry started.
"It's fine! You're making such a big deal out of nothing. And I haven't shown you my room yet. Oh yeah. If you want to put in anything--like a bookshelf, a mirror, whatever, just tell me or father, alright?" Draco replied.
"O-oh, okay," Harry said, still slightly amazed by the splendor of the Malfoy residence.
Draco took Harry into a ridiculously messy room. However, after looking carefully, he discovered that Draco's room was very much like his new one--except with dark green rather than dark blue. Draco also had a multitude of random things piled in a multitude of random places; a broomstick on top of his desk, a potions cauldron in the bathtub...Draco's room also had several very-filled bookshelves on a large variety of topics.
An ugly-looking short-ish creature appeared to Harry's left with a nasty popping sound. The "creature had large, bat-like ears and bulging green eyes the size of tennis balls." (CoS, Rowling) It was wearing what appeared to be an extremely filthy tea cozy, or maybe an ancient pillowcase.
"What on earth is that?" Harry exclaimed, startled by the ugly thing.
"Oh, just a House Elf. That's Dobby, I think," Draco said, staring at the creature. "What is it?"
"Mistress told Dobby to send you down, sir. Mistress says dinner is ready, sir, and to go down," Dobby squeaked nervously, bowing as he went.
"Oh. Dismissed, then," Draco replied, sending Dobby popping away with the wave of his hand.
"Alright Harry, are you ready to meet Mother? Just nod and smile, and she'll leave you alone...I think." Draco said, smiling. "Let's go!"
On the way down the stairs to the first floor, Harry's foot sunk into a staircase (How had that happened? The staircase was, well, a staircase! One's foot simply does not sink into staircases) and Draco had to pull Harry out.
"Sorry about that, Harry, I'd forgotten all about it. Some old, ancient and long-dead Malfoy decided that it would be funny if guests were stuck every time they stepped on that stair, and anyone without Malfoy blood or who isn't warded in to the Manor wards will be stuck," Draco explained, an amused smirk on his face. "Just remember to jump over it next time, and you should be fine."
Right before they reached the dining room, Draco and Harry heard a woman's voice yell out.
"What did you think you were doing, bringing home a Potter? You know very well just how much our families do not mix. The Potters were our greatest enemy during the war! How could you? What do you think people will say of us, of me? Bringing a Potter boy into our home--"
"Narcissa. Please stop," Harry could hear Lucius say. "The boy wasn't even raised by his parents. If I remember correctly, his parents were killed on the same day the Dark Lord fell. Anyways, it wasn't my decision--it was Draco's wish to bring him home, and I didn't see any reason to object."
"You didn't see any reason why it wouldn't be a bad idea? What? Lucius! Simply being a Potter is a good enough reason! I don't want a Potter around my son. And just because Drakey wanted it doesn't mean you should have given it to him. You're spoiling him too much this time--I want you to take the Potter boy away," Narcissa replied with a note of finality.
"Absolutely not, Narcissa," Lucius replied, with just as much finality. "Harry Potter is our guest, and we will be treating him as such. And I truly doubt he will be a bad influence on Draco--Potter has been living under the care of muggles," Lucius gagged, "for the majority of his life. If we take him in, we shall be able to prevent the loss of a pureblood wizard to the influence of muggle-lovers."
"Fine," Narcissa said, scowling. "If that's the way you want things, then we'll mold him to become the most Malfoy-like Potter the world has ever seen. He might even be an asset... Imagine Dumbledore's face when Harry Potter, from a famously light family, turns away from him in favor of us." Narcissa grinned and settled upon this idea, feeling as if her 'loss' wasn't quite a loss at all.
Thinking Narcissa and Lucius were likely done, Draco ushered Harry into the dining room.
"Mother," Draco immediately started, "this is Harry Potter. Father and I found him alone in Diagon Alley, and so we brought him home."
"Yes dear," Narcissa replied, "your father has informed me already. Sit down, now. We can talk over a bit of food."
Lucius sat at the head of the table while Narcissa sat pristinely to his side. One chair down, Harry and Draco sat across from each other. The rest of the extremely long table was left ridiculously empty. Narcissa clapped twice, and table settings appears. She clapped again, and menus appeared.
"Just say the item and it will appear," Draco whispered to Harry.
Experimenting, Harry mumbled "roast duck" and a small portion of brownish stuff appeared of his plate. Fascinated, Harry began to eat.
"Tell me, Harry, exactly why were you in Diagon Alley alone yesterday?" Narcissa cut in, staring at Harry.
"Um, well, my uncle--"
"Speak up and don't mumble," Narcissa said before Harry could continue.
"Oh, uh, anyways, my uncle kicked me out of their house--"
"Their house? What do you mean by their house? Who is you uncle, anyways?" Narcissa cut in again.
"Er, well, my aunt and uncle are muggles, and they don't really like me much..." Harry trailed off, fidgeting on his chair. Why were things so difficult to explain? He was simply removed from the house, and had no place to live.
"Anyways, they didn't want me anymore, and so I wandered around. And it was kind of cold last night...so when I reached the Leaky Cauldron, which was the only store still open on the street, I went in. No one noticed though, at least until Draco found me," Harry babbled, trying to finish his story before being interrupted. 'Ha!' he thought, 'she didn't get me this time!'
"I see..." Narcissa said condescendingly. "Idiot muggles. Well, you're fine now, aren't you?"
"Um, yeah. Thanks to Draco and Mr. Malfoy." Harry grinned. "Thanks to you, too."
"You're completely welcome, Harry," Lucius replied before Narcissa could say anything. "So Harry, do you have any interests?"
"Er...I like to read?" Harry replied, confused by the switch in topic.
"Quidditch! Harry, do you play Quidditch?" Draco asked, suddenly charged with excitement.
"..." Harry stared at Draco blankly. "What's Quidditch?"
"It's only the best game in the world," Draco replied, looking slightly insulted. "You play on broomsticks. You see, there are seven people on each team. There are three chasers, who are responsible for tossing the Quaffle around and trying to make a goal. There is one keeper, whose job is to guard the hoops and not let the chasers shoot the Quaffle through the hoops; two beaters, who swing their awfully hard bats at nasty little balls called bludgers and try to knock people of the other team unconscious (and protect their own team, of course, but knocking people unconscious is so much more fun); and there is a seeker, who looks for the golden snitch, a little flying thing that flits around really quickly that..."
Harry tried to make sense of Draco's excited babble and listened to Draco chatter on and on about Quidditch, Quidditch teams, and practically anything related to Quidditch. Very quickly, dinner had passed (as well as desert) and Lucius and Narcissa excused themselves (after telling the boys not to sleep to late).
"Draco, can you teach me how to play Quidditch?" Harry asked, hooked on the game after listening to nearly an hour of Draco's explanations.
"Of course! Tomorrow then, if it's sunny. Alright?" Draco replied, glad to have found someone who could play with him.
"Alright. I guess we should go to bed, eh?" Harry said, happy that he had found someone who cared about him, or at least treated him as an equal.
Harry and Draco made their ways up to their rooms, and the two exhausted eight-year-olds sank into blissful sleep as soon as their heads touched their pillows.
6 June 2008 A/N: Ha! I made it to 3500 words! Lol. Anyways, this chapter came up very quickly (I had quite a large amount of free time) and so here it is. This is my first real try at a continous fanfic story, so please tell me if I could improve in any way at all. The first few chapters will be kind of boring and a general setting-up of the rest, so bear with me for a while. Thanks for reading!