Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

Harry Potter and the Fairy Curse

II

Time passed slowly for Harry. The rain didn't let up once and he felt almost like he was drowning in it. He had tucked the doll under his shirt, the cold porcelain actually felt warm against his chilled flesh. He hadn't wanted the delicate looking doll to get ruined, but the wet shirt clinging to him was little defense against the weather and so the gift was well and truly soaked.

The eerie glow of the streetlight above him flickered testily, and Harry really couldn't blame it. He wished he was inside out of the rain too. Why hadn't his aunt just let him stay home? He wouldn't have caused any trouble, he would have had to pay for anything he'd done wrong anyway.

After what felt like forever to the poor frozen boy people started to trickle from the warm cocoon of the building and Harry was forced to relinquish the meager shelter the car had provided when someone started it's engine.

Harry obediently waited for the Dursleys to emerge from the party, but it was another hour before they turned up. By then Harry's legs felt like jelly, and his shivering had escalated dangerously.

His family ignored him as he trudged along behind them, sloshing through the heavy puddles collecting in the uneven parking lot.

Once inside the car, Harry curled himself into a miserable little ball and pressed his clammy forehead against the equally cold upholstery of the car. His uncle sent him a dirty look for soaking the car seats, and he was sure he'd be paying for it later.

Trembling uncontrollably Harry closed his eyes and tried to drift into sleep.

It didn't work very well, Harry could feel every little bump in the road and the AC was on high. Admitting defeat Harry opened his eyes, and carefully pulled the doll from within the confines of his shirt. He trailed numb fingers over the smooth cheek, but he was unable to make out any of it's tiny features in the darkness. He wasn't even sure if it was supposed to be a girl, but he supposed that was the case. Dolls were always girls, weren't they?

Unfortunately Harry's attention to the toy didn't go unnoticed. Dudley snatched the doll from Harry's hands with a cruel sneer, "Playing with dolls now, Potter? Your such a girl."

Too tired to argue, Harry tried to retake his only possession, "Please Dudley, it's mine."

A nasty grin spread across the boy's chubby face, "Yeah right, I bet you stole it."

"No, an old man gave it to me." Harry insisted, "He said it was a birthday present."

"Don't be ridiculous, who in their right mind would give you a present? They probably meant for you to hold it for me."

Harry felt a bubble of helplessness well in his chest, it wasn't fair. He knew that if Dudley had claimed the doll that he'd never see it again, and it wouldn't be very long before it was nothing more then a pile of splinters.

Dudley had never been very kind to his belongings, much less anything that had ever belonged to Harry.

Sighing in defeat, Harry slumped back against the door.

When they arrived back at the house Harry crawled out of the car and walked weakly into the house. His cousin shoved him roughly before racing up the stares to his bedroom, Harry's birthday present was clutched tightly in his fat fist.

Harry watched him go with sad eyes before dragging himself to the small door under the stairs.

Harry didn't have a room for himself, in fact, he didn't even have a bed. He was forced to sleep on a small cot in a tiny closet. It was always cold and cramped and he had to share what little space he had with the spiders.

Curling up Harry tried to get warm, but with no blanket it was an impossible task. As a fever set in he finally drifted off, a single tear tracking down his pale cheek.

*~*~*~*

Wet. Why in the Vale was he wet? Dumbledore was usually so careful to keep him safe and dry. So what in the world was going on?

Stretching, Draco flexed his wings, shaking the sticky remains of the spell from where it clung to him. Droplets of water sprayed in every direction with the movement, but he paid it no attention.

Looking around Draco found he had no idea where he was, the room was spacious, yet cluttered. He was sitting on a shelf nailed high on the wall, and below him he could hear the most obnoxious snoring he'd ever encountered. It was worse then the Weasel, for the Vale's sake.

Shaking his head, Draco searched the room for his guardian, but the old man was nowhere to be found. Frowning Draco stepped towards the edge of the shelf and looked down.

Pale blond eyebrows arched in disbelief. Below him was the most massive human he'd ever laid eyes on, his gaping maw was a fright to see and he emitted the most disgusting smell Draco had ever smelled.

Gagging, the young man quickly back peddled. What in the world had Dumbledore been thinking?! The monster below him couldn't possibly be the one they had been searching for. No way… Draco refused to take that boy, no matter what that barmy wizard thought. He didn't care if the curse did him in, he'd rather die then let that creature anywhere near his person.

Sneering Draco looked around for an exit, as soon as he found Dumbledore he would give that man a piece of his mind, and then some.

The window was locked, and even if it wasn't Draco never would have been able to lift it. He'd just have to find another way out of the building, and if that wasn't possible he'd find somewhere to hide that the boy would never find him until he was able to escape.

Experimentally Draco tested his wings. It had been a while since he'd actually used them; the curse hadn't left much time for leisurely flying.

Launching himself off the shelf he glided towards the floor, fluttering his wings every so often to keep aloft. Gliding through the air he landed lightly on the golden doorknob in a low crouch. Straightening he thought of how he'd open the door.

He hadn't had too much practice with human technologies, but it wasn't too difficult to determine that he would have to turn the strange lever in order to open the door.

Bracing himself on the side of the metal knob, and started working his wings in a frenzied pattern, straining with all his muscles and slowly, ever so slowly, the knob started to turn. Draco pushed his feet down, walking with great difficult across the slippery surface.

Hard as it was, it had worked, and Draco collapsed on the floor exhausted. He didn't rest for long; he didn't have the time to waste. Morning was fast approaching and he simply couldn't be caught unawares.

He knew he wouldn't be able to get out of the house that night, but that didn't mean he would let that pig touch him again.

The hall was darker than the boy's bedroom, but that didn't really matter to the young man. He'd always been able to see perfectly in even the darkest of nights.

In one direction were three more doors and a wall, the other way was a staircase. He decided to take his chances in the lower levels. Hopefully there would be some kind of nook he could squeeze inside of.

Destination set, Draco headed towards the banister. The stairs were huge, and he didn't fancy trying to leap from stair to stair. His wings were getting quite the work out today.

Bracing one hand on one of the poles he leaned forward to take a look at what exactly he'd be getting himself into. The area below him wasn't exactly very wide for a hall, but it would do.

Flexing his wing muscles he crouched low before diving off the wall. The ground was approaching at rapid pace, but Draco held on until the last moment when he snapped his wings out, the delicate membranes quivering pleasantly with the air pressure. Grinning, Draco dropped to the ground, catching himself in a low crouch, similar to the one he'd used on the doorknob. His wings straightened, pressing together gently.

Draco surveyed his surroundings critically. There wasn't very many places to hide in the hall, and there were no windows he could hope to squeeze through.

Not deterred in the least, Draco turned on his heel and surveyed what was beyond the stairs. He could see a door, securely locked, and he knew he didn't have the time to attempt to open that one too (the last door had taken a lot of time, and energy). But maybe there was somewhere he could hide out while he waited for nighttime to fall once more.

He hadn't even reached the end of the hall when a strange noise stopped him in his tracks. It was a low, distressed whimper. Silvery eyebrows arched towards his hair and he spun around in search of the perpetrator.

There was no one in the hall besides him and he didn't hear anything more for long moments so he thought he might have imagined it. Before he'd turned completely around again the sound was repeated, only this time with an added whine at the end.

If there was some kind of wounded animal in this dreadful place Draco couldn't very well leave it. There was no telling what those foul beasts up stairs would do to the poor thing.

No, Draco's duty as Fairy Prince insisted he aid the distressed creature, whatever it may be.

But wherever was it hiding? Perhaps wherever it was located he too could hide out until dusk, it was worth a try at any rate.

He didn't have to wait quite so long before the sound was repeated yet again, and he could pick up a bit of rustling as well. Unfortunately Draco wasn't sure exactly where it had come from, but it hadn't been to far off.

Again he waited and this time his eyes snapped towards the sound…only to find himself staring at a wall.

Crinkling his small nose up in distaste he huffed indignantly. How was he supposed to help the distressed animal if it had decided to reside within the very walls of the house?

Sure it was an ingenious hiding place, and one that was likely to remain undetected, but it would do Draco no good if he wasn't able to find it either.

Really, how rude of the animal, if it had wanted his help it should have at least had the decency to die in a more accessible location. Not that he was going to let the poor thing die, of course, that was just not done.

Again the halls were filled with sounds, only this time it was a low, keening moan, filled with pain. Draco just had to find a way into that blasted wall!

Silvery eyes scanned the area below the stairs before locking on two things. One was another door handle, and the other was a vent at the bottom of what could only be a door.

That had to be where the poor little creature was trapped, and now Draco knew how to get in. He didn't think he had the energy to open the door the human way, but maybe he could slip in through the air vent.

It was not his most pleasant realisation; the metal fins were covered in a thick layer of dust, and where almost glued shut.

It took a lot of manpower, but finally he was able to dislodge a lower panel. However he wasn't expecting the stupid thing to snap up with so much force that it sent him reeling into the wall behind him.

Dazed, Draco put a hand to his head and waited for the room to stop spinning. When it did Draco stood on slightly shaky legs and marched himself back to the door.

Bending down he inspected the filthy portal with distaste. He really didn't want to touch that nasty thing.

Steeling himself, Draco bowed his head, then arched his back up through the small hole, trying desperately not to touch anything. His wings were flat out on either side of him, quivering slightly under the strain of trying to remain muck free.

Draco realized halfway through that he was stuck. There was no way to get into the closet without touching anything.

Sneering in disgust, Draco tentatively braced his hands on the metal slab between his panel and the one below it. A shiver raced up his spine at the contact, and he could feel his hair standing on end…this was so gross. Pushing back his natural aversion to filth, Draco gave one huge push and launched himself head over heals into his new hiding place.

Using the momentum of his roll, he gracefully slid to his feet, his wings outstretched for balance.

Once he was stable again he made a quick search of the area to locate the animal he had braved the revolting metal door to give aid to.

Only, there was no injured animal curled into a corner of the small space.

Baffled, Draco ran a hand through his silky strands of hair, grimacing at the grimy feel it had surely acquired from close proximity to so much filth.

Animal or no, this would be a perfect hide out, he decided, looking around for a soft space to rest. He was interrupted by the whimpering again, but this time it was coming from directly above him.

Silver eyes snapped up, finally noticing the thin scrap of fabric stretched out from one side of cupboard to the other. Something was laying on this makeshift bed, and that something was what had led Draco to his safe haven.

He was honor bound to do whatever he could to aid this creature.

Flexing his wings, Draco wandered over to a human broom leaning against a wall. This would work, he decided, tugging on one of the dirty straw bristles. Humans were so nasty, he lamented as he worked himself up to scaling the overgrown paintbrush.

Closing his eyes to gather what little courage he had, Draco crouched low. When his eyes snapped open he pushed off, his hands and feet scrabbling along the rough surfaces of the broom. His wings fluttered rapidly in an effort to rush the possess (the sooner he reached the top the sooner he could brush himself off).

Pulling himself over the lip of the cot, Draco spent a few moments to regain his breath before setting to work.

Silver eyes slid over the figure curled up in the cot, a frown coming to his face. A boy. There was no mistreated animal here, only a very feverish child.

Draco may not like the human race very much, but this was just wrong.

Tentatively extending a hand, Draco brushed thick strands of black hair away from the boy's ear, disturbed by the immense heat radiating from his flesh.

He couldn't do much for the boy before dawn, but he'd do what he could.

Brushing his knuckles over the boy's jaw, Draco dug his hands into the nondescript shirt and pulled himself onto the boy's shoulder then turned to get his first good look at his new ward.

Draco's eyes widened in surprise and his breath rushed out in a startled hiss. This was no child laying under him, but the most beautiful young man Draco had ever seen, his ivory skin flushed with the fever, little moans and whimpers escaped passed plumb lips.

Draco swallowed hard, and forced himself to remember what he was doing. This young human was sick, and all Draco could do was stare at him?

Shaking himself, Draco moved with the boy as he shifted onto his back, his knees still crushed against his side. Kneeling on the boy's chest Draco pressed both hands to the flesh above the human's heart and pushed some of his healing magic into the boy, urging it to steady the franticly beating heart.. Then he slid down the boy's neck and snuck around to caress his way through the tangled mess that was the boy's hair. Pressed flushed against the boy's crown, Draco placed his hands on the boy's forehead, and pressed a gentle kiss to the skin between his hands. More healing magic seeped into the boy, this time focusing on bringing his temperature to more tolerable levels.

Exhausted all over again, Draco curled himself into the boy's soft hair, inhaling the intoxicating scent, and drifted off to sleep.

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