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A Different Kind of Pureblood - Chapter One
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dumbledorez.gal
BewareMyRoar--x'

Gender: Female
Location: Hiding From Snape, Where Else?

A Different Kind of Pureblood - Chapter One

Here is the very first chapter of DKP, a story my twin sister and I wrote as a team smile

CHAPTER ONE: Twist Away

“BOY!”

I don’t want to…

“Wake up, boy! NOW!”

No, I’d really rather lie here until I die…

A huge fist crashed into Harry Potter’s chest, causing the thin boy to cry out in pain, all the wind knocked from his body. While he lie gasping, trying to recover from the unexpected blow, his massive uncle, Vernon, glared at the messy black hair of his pathetic nephew. Green eyes filled with tears as Harry looked up, gasping out a weak, “Yes, uncle Vernon,” while he forced his breathing back to normal.

“Get dressed, boy. You’re going to buy groceries.”

“Yes, uncle Vernon,” Harry whispered, wincing in pain. The large man retreated from the room, letting Harry dress himself.

As the frail boy put on some clothes, the tears that had gathered in his eyes finally slid down the bony curve of his cheek. The Order of the Phoenix had sent him back to the Dursleys with promises that he wouldn’t be mistreated again. But the dead couldn’t keep their promise… All the members of the Order were dead and buried, murdered and left broken in the wake of the Dark Lord. Harry no longer had guards at Number 4, Privet Drive. He knew perfectly well that, at any given moment, he could hear the words ‘Avada Kedavra’ and fall lifelessly to the ground. He almost wished they would kill him and have it done with. Everyone he loved had been taken away from him. Well, almost. Ron and Hermione lived, but they were in hiding.

Within minutes, Harry was flung unceremoniously out the door with twenty pounds and a brief grocery list. It was a grand opportunity to run away, but Harry was without his magic wand. He would have had it with him, but Vernon had taken it away from him. He, too, waited impatiently for the death of Harry Potter. It was with a pathetic groan that the boy plucked his head from the flower bed in which it had landed, spat out dirt, and grudgingly sauntered toward the corner store.

The night air was cold around him, and he wished he could have at least gotten a jacket. Yes, it was night; about three in the morning, really. During previous summer breaks, the Dursleys would make him labor from the moment he awoke to the moment he went to bed. This year, they were malicious, never letting him sleep a full night. They wanted him to be weak by the time a random Death Eater came after him. He was a plague upon their doorstep, a danger to the family, a disgrace, a thing that needed to be destroyed…

But a few minutes later, he left the little shop with a clunky armload of overpriced food, wishing he had used a bit of cash to get himself a chocolate bar, or anything to curb his appetite. The Dursleys had also fallen back to their punishment during his second year; starvation. This year, he couldn’t write to anyone to send food. There was nobody left, so he had to bear it. Vernon Dursley would notice if even the smallest amount of cash went missing. Harry shrugged his load up, longing to return to Hogwarts, but that was weeks ago. Maybe he could live through this.

If he really wanted to. As witnessed only by the moon, another tear cascaded down his cheek, and he whispered softly, “Now. Come out and do it now. If anybody can hear me, kill me now.”

Harry paused for a moment, hoping to hear something remotely like footsteps behind him, but nothing reached his ears, save the nightly breeze. He still hoped to hear it, though. Still freezing in the crisp night, he pleaded for any noise, anything at all. Then, and only then, it reached his ears. But it wasn’t the footsteps he expected.

Someone was crying.

Harry had cried many times in the past, and heard many people crying. He knew how to distinguish fake sobs from the soft gasps of depression, and he could hear the difference between panic and pain. The person was in pain. There were whimpers and sharp gasps between the choked-out sobs. Agony. Terrified agony.

His determination to be murdered vanished instantly, to be replaced by alarm and pity. Clutching his bags close, Harry followed the sound. His ears and feet led him to a darkened alley, between two abandoned old homes. Who would be crying in there? The possibility of this being a trap flickered through his mind, but he didn’t care. The Dark Lord had used his good heart against him, but, for once, he didn’t mind the idea of being murdered. What he wouldn’t stand for was the potential abandonment of somebody that really needed help. He wanted to find and comfort this person, damage be damned.

He stepped into the darkness.

A small figure was huddled up against a trash can, convulsing, racked with sobs. “What’s the matter?” Harry asked gently, setting down the groceries and debating internally whether or not he should go nearer.
“Hungry,” a young, broken voice responded. It was hard to tell, but Harry thought it was a boy’s voice. “I’m so hungry.” The voice was familiar, but Harry just couldn’t place it.

“I have some food,” Harry said lightly, knowing he would be beaten for giving some food away, but this seemed to be a good cause. The boy stopped trembling so much, and his head tilted up, but the shadows were too deep for Harry to recognize him.

“You would feed me?” he gasped, something in his voice reading of frightened hesitance. "You?"

“Of course!” Harry replied. The hair on the back of his neck was prickling, but he couldn’t see why. He lowered his eyes from the boy, so that he could dig in the bag for something ready to eat. He found bread rolls and cheese. The shaking boy whispered something, but Harry didn’t hear him properly, so he looked up- only to find that the boy had vanished.

“Hello?” Harry whispered, suddenly awake with dread. He should have known. He should have seen it coming. After all, with Voldemort at large and without the protection of the Order, he should have expected an attack.

“Thank you,” the broken voice cooed from behind Harry’s ear. Before he could turn around, icy hands latched onto his shoulder. He was so shocked by the cold that he froze, muscles tensed as his body attempted (and failed) to shudder. Perhaps this wasn’t a trap, and the hungry kid was just an incredibly creepy hungry kid. But the fact remained that Harry simply could not move.

While Harry remained stationary, those cold (and thin!) arms twined their way around him, locking him in place. The grip was so firm that, when Harry recovered from his shock, he was still immobile. He felt the tell-tale contours of the boy’s chin rest gently on his shoulder, effectively scaring the clockworks out of him.

“Thank you so much… Harry.”

Upon hearing his name, Harry tried to twist around to see the hungry guy, wanting to ask how he knew who he was, but this action was cut off abruptly. Harry gasped and tried to struggle as he felt a stabbing pain in his neck, the tell-tale sensation of flesh being separated. Was this guy slitting his throat?! He tried to kick out behind him, or at least turn around, but he found he could do neither. In fact, he had no control over his body at all. His eyes widened with horror as he found himself slumping back into the arms of the stranger, with a strangled groan. His head fell back onto the stranger’s shoulder.

The second he relaxed, the searing pain vanished, replaced by something else entirely. Ecstasy. It was almost like the Imperious Curse, only, instead of being commanded to do something in his blissful state of mind, he had only to relax and enjoy it. The alley had already been pitch black before, but he knew his vision was fading into darkness. He found that he didn’t really care now, even as his body relaxed to the point of not breathing. This was a much better way to die than anything he had ever imagined, even if he didn’t understand what was happening. He could feel his heart slowing down…

The feeling vanished as suddenly as it came. Harry found himself shuddering and drawing in weak gasps of air, still held by the boy, still incapable of movement. What in Merlin’s name just happened? His neck was still stinging a wee bit. The stranger turned him slightly, but through Harry’s clouded vision, he couldn’t see any of his features. He was just looking at Harry, just looking. He looked like a bright spot in Harry’s vision, which meant he must have been extremely pale. Though this was a calm moment, a solitary thought passed through Harry’s mind… This guy just tried to kill me.

The stranger seemed to notice what was going through Harry’s mind, because he tensed and turned around to run. Harry didn’t let him. His fist swung out, catching the boy with a blow to the back of the head. Dizzy from the sudden motion, Harry slumped weakly against the wall, staring in shock at the boy beside him.

His vision cleared for a split second as the pale boy slowly turned to gape at him. His eyes were gray, hair smooth and blond. He wore black robes that were torn in several places, yet still appeared very fine and well tailored. Harry stared at him as the boy’s eyes rolled up slightly, and he collapsed gracefully onto the pavement.

It was Draco Malfoy, Harry realized, as his last ounce of strength faded and the world fell to darkness.


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Old Post Jan 17th, 2006 11:17 AM
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dumbledorez.gal
BewareMyRoar--x'

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sad no ones posted yet oh well they see it soon hopefully


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Old Post Jan 17th, 2006 11:37 AM
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jlee17xoxo412
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Gender: Female
Location: US / UK

i like you story it's very differnt from the rest....keep it up


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So guys are the most confusing thing ever on earth


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Old Post Jan 17th, 2006 10:06 PM
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Barker
hello

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It's nice, But don't post a new Chapter in a new Thread, if that's what you were planning to do. wink


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ok im back whaddup fellas

Old Post Jan 18th, 2006 01:43 AM
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dumbledorez.gal
BewareMyRoar--x'

Gender: Female
Location: Hiding From Snape, Where Else?

CHAPTER TWO: Twist the Other Way

When Harry opened his eyes, he still saw nothing. Either the room was dark, or he was blind… no, it was just a dark room. He adjusted slowly to the light (or lack there of) and tried not to move. He was certain that something bad would happen if he did. He felt rather weak and exhausted, but he couldn’t quite remember why. With wary eyes, he took in his blurry surroundings, noticing his lack of glasses. The room he was in was nearly empty. A lonely and unclean wardrobe stood in the corner. Dark, thick, and dusty curtains covered a large window. Harry was lying on the bottom bunk of a twin-sized bunk bed. He couldn’t see the top bunk, but he could tell from the squished mattress above him that it was occupied.

He didn’t dare to move. For one terrible moment, Harry was afraid that Malfoy had taken him to Voldemort- but then his sense kicked in, and he knew that Voldemort would much rather torture and kill him than lock him away with a cozy bed. Although he relaxed at the thought of not being captured by the Dark Lord, he was also alarmed and filled with suspense. If he wasn’t a Death Eater captive, then where was he, and why was he here?

“You’re in the Leaky Cauldron,” a voice drawled from above him. Harry’s breath hitched. Oh, God, that voice, it’s- “Room 4. I was wondering when you’d wake up.” The bulges on the squishy mattress above him shifted, and Harry gaped as Draco Malfoy’s blond head dangled out of the top bunk, gray eyes fixed on his own emerald green ones. His white eyebrows furrowed slightly as he looked over Harry, who was frozen in place. “You look like hell,” was Malfoy‘s succinct opinion.

That got a growl out of Harry. “I‘m probably in hell, considering who I‘m bunked up with.” A moment after he said it, Harry regretted it. Pain ripped through his chest as his lungs didn’t want to take in the air. Malfoy stared at him curiously as he ground his teeth and coughed slightly. Why was he this weak? “That hurt,” he mumbled after the bout was gone.

The mattress above shifted again. Malfoy propped his head up on his hands, and the look he fixed Harry with was rather serious. “How does it feel?” he asked softly. The tone was a lot gentler than Harry had come to expect from his less-threatening-than-Voldemort nemesis. In his dazed and aching state, Harry didn’t know what he was talking about.

“The bed?” Harry croaked blankly, being careful to not take too deep a breath.

“The pain, moron.” Malfoy’s drawl was back in place, and Harry smirked. For a split second, he was glad to see the spark of annoyance on Malfoy’s pale features. If Malfoy had randomly started being nice to him, the world would surely explode in shock. Ah, one thing that would never change… The mutual hatred between Potter and Malfoy.

“It feels like a Hungarian Horntail took a shit on me,” Harry coughed. An exasperated groan escaped the lips of the pale boy above him, and Harry decided to interrupt whatever he planned on saying. “Can I ask a question?” Harry wheezed.

“No,” Malfoy drawled.

That caught Harry by surprise, and it annoyed him endlessly. “Well, I’m going to ask it anyway!” he spat, before being overcome by a strong fit of coughs. Malfoy’s head disappeared for a minute, and the mattress shifted as the pale boy moved toward the ladder at the far end of the bed. Through his choking breaths, Harry felt a bit of alarm. Great, now I’ve made him angry. He’s going to kill me. He was doubled over in pain as he watched Malfoy descend the ladder. He looked a lot thinner than when Harry had last seen him.

Instead of heading toward Harry as his feet met the floor, the youngest Malfoy stalked regally toward the window. He was wearing the same clothing Harry had last seen him in; the elegant black robes that had been stained and ripped, as if the boy had ran away in the middle of a fancy dinner party and been attacked by something with claws. Catching his breath, Harry couldn’t help it but wonder what had happened to his pale rival. Perhaps he really had been attacked by something. Why wasn’t he at home with his father and mother, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy?

Draco Malfoy hissed something under his breath, and stood against the wall, near the curtains. His long hands reached out slightly, taking the curtain cord and pulling it sharply. Light flooded the room, daylight, and though it stung Harry’s eyes for a minute, the change was very welcome. He could see the train right outside the window; see the whole of London before him. But the best thing he saw was Hedwig, his beautiful white owl, scratching at the window to be let in. He would have moved to open the window, but his body wouldn’t allow it. He was relieved to see that Malfoy was opening the latch, keeping his hand out of the light for reasons unknown. For a split second, a sunbeam fell upon his white skin, and with a sharp hiss, Draco snapped his hand forward, knocking the window open. Hedwig soared in gracefully. Malfoy instantly receded to the shadows.

Harry was too busy being overjoyed about the arrival of his owl to note these strange things about Malfoy. “Hedwig,” he sighed happily. “How did you escape the cage?” Hooting in a dignified way, Hedwig landed on his shoulder. Harry tried to lift a hand and stroke her, but it hardly moved up an inch before falling limply onto the blankets. He was too weak. “Sorry, Hedwig. I- I’d pet you, but I’m too tired…” She hooted softly. Malfoy’s eyes glittered from the shadows. Harry glared in his direction, but continued to speak to his owl. “That’s just what I get for falling into this conniving bastard’s traps. If I’d known Malfoy would try to rape me, I would never have tried to help him.”

An annoyed hiss issued from the corner where Malfoy lurked. “For the record, I would never try to rape you. If I were to rape anyone, I would trust myself to have better taste.” Harry was at a loss for words. That wasn’t in insult one heard every day.

“Than what did you do to me?” Harry demanded after a moment, groaning slightly as his lungs stung. Hedwig dug her claws into Harry’s shoulder, but he was somewhat numb, and it didn’t hurt very much.

The curtains snapped shut, and the pale Malfoy swooped forward, making his face hover inches over Harry’s. The smaller wizard flinched at the intensity of Malfoy’s gray stare. “I got a taste,” Malfoy whispered. Harry froze. What did that mean? A taste of what? The gray eyes above him seemed to glow in the darkness. Hedwig flew off of Harry’s shoulder, landing on the wardrobe.

“Malfoy?” Harry gasped uncertainly, not liking how close their bodies had become. He felt trapped. Draco was a little larger than him, not by much, but the difference was notable. Malfoy frowned, gray eyes darting all over Harry’s small and trembling figure. He brushed his blond hair out of his face, never taking his eyes off Harry Potter.

“Draco. Call me Draco, Harry.”

Now, THAT was strange. Nobody called him Draco, not even his two cronies, Crabbe and Goyle. The only person he had ever heard referring to Draco by his first name was his father. It hit him that being allowed to use Malfoy’s first name must be a rare privilege.

“Since when were we on first-name terms?” Harry whispered slowly. The eyes above him softened slightly, and Mal-Draco stood erect, fixing Harry with a very odd look. It was almost as if his eyes were trying to bore holes in Harry’s head, possibly trying to split his scar open.

“Since last night, when you saved my life.”

Harry’s jaw dropped, emerald eyes shooting wide open. “What- when did I-” he began to ask, but a loud knock at the door caught his attention. Draco was gone before Harry could blink, and as the rusty old door creaked open, the mattress above him shifted under Draco’s weight. He was obviously going to pretend he was still asleep.

“Harry?” a familiar voice called. Harry tried to lift his head and look, but it fell back onto the pillow. “Harry! Oh, you’re okay!” A split second later, the intruder was on him, knelt by his side, with her arms wrapped around him tightly. Fluffy brown hair tickled his nose, and Harry’s body screamed in pain as he was forced to move. With a small gasp, she released her hold, letting him fall back onto the mattress.

“H-Hermione?” Harry choked, his eyes watering from the pain. “I thought you were in hiding!”

(I have a bit more to this mwill post after this one


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Old Post Jan 18th, 2006 02:05 AM
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dumbledorez.gal
BewareMyRoar--x'

Gender: Female
Location: Hiding From Snape, Where Else?

Heres the rest of chapter 2: Enjoy

“I was, Harry, I was,” Hermione Granger cooed, as she draped a stripy-shirt-clad arm over his chest and buried her fluffy head in his shoulder. “But I had to come. When I heard what happened, I couldn’t stay away…” He could tell she was on the edge of tears. How Harry wanted to talk, to ask what was going on! But the pain was all over him, and he was too busy gasping for breath. “Malfoy was the one that found you, Harry,” she whispered. Her voice quivered. “You were so messed up from the ordeal. I can’t believe you punched him! He was only trying to help!”

Help? Harry though distantly, realizing that Draco must have fed her some cock-bull story about what happened. “He carried you all the way here from Privet Drive,” Hermione continued, oblivious to Harry’s confusion. “Don’t you know how far that is? He didn’t have his wand, so he couldn’t hail the Knight Bus or anything. He just walked! He carried you, without magic, all the way to London! Even after you hit him!”

“What?” Harry gasped. Draco Malfoy did what?!

“He rescued you, Harry,” Hermione explained softly. “We knew the Dursleys were… a bit abusive… But trying to kill you, Harry, we never… If I had known…” Her arms tightened around him for a moment, a bit like a hug, and she slowly stood, her brown eyes misty. “I’m sorry.”

So, that’s the story Malfoy fed her.

She turned slightly and looked up at the top bunk, with a sigh. “It took a lot out of him. Still unconscious. I can’t believe he carried you all that way…”

“Unconscious?” Harry breathed. Malfoy was absolutely still above him. He was obviously good at pretending to be asleep. Hermione nodded, and leaned down to brush his raven black hair out of Harry’s eyes.

“I’ll bring some soup,” Hermione whispered. “We need to talk. Tomorrow, perhaps. You need to rest now.“ She retired from the room, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts and Malfoy. Though he really wanted to fall asleep and ease this uncomfortable pain, he needed his questions answered.

“Malfoy?” he croaked. Silence met his ears. “Malfoy,” he said louder.

“Don’t call me that,” the strained voice came from above him. “I’m not a Malfoy anymore.”

As if Harry wasn‘t confused enough already.

“What the hell is going on?!”

Draco Malfoy didn’t answer.


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Old Post Jan 18th, 2006 02:05 AM
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dumbledorez.gal
BewareMyRoar--x'

Gender: Female
Location: Hiding From Snape, Where Else?

Cute Little Vampire Pic of Draco

Here is Draco Malfoy as a Vampire my inspiration for DKP. HE is blood thirsty and Loves Harry. Awwww! They are Gay in DKP! embarrasment

Attachment: draco1.png
This has been downloaded 248 time(s).


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Old Post Jan 18th, 2006 02:20 AM
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~dorkerina~
Senior Member

Gender: Female
Location: United States, Card board box

Your writing is great! best I've ever read in a fanfiction. Honest truth.

The direction is kinda.... yeah, besides, not much of a vampire story person, I don't think I'll finish, but I really did want to let you know it is really good writing.

Glad you liked mine!


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Old Post Jan 18th, 2006 03:49 AM
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~*LoverGirl21*~
I luv my gorgeous face!

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so far it is good =)
keep going


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Old Post Jan 18th, 2006 04:41 AM
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dumbledorez.gal
BewareMyRoar--x'

Gender: Female
Location: Hiding From Snape, Where Else?

ty for feedback. sorri i been away for ages though! heres chapter three

CHAPTER THREE: Twisted Perspective

Harry woke up without realizing he had fallen asleep. He was still in that same bed, in the same room. The wardrobe was still dusty, but it now had a sleeping Hedwig residing on top. The curtains were shut tightly, and, judging from the glow around the curtain’s edges, it was night and the moon was making her presence known. A single streak of moonlight crept in between the shades. It fell on the bed-side table, which was burdened with a heap of books and… a bowl of soup.

Harry’s stomach growled ferociously at the thought of food. He hadn’t eaten for at least a day, and he hadn’t exactly been nourished before that. All weakness forgotten, Harry sat bolt upright. His head crashed against the bunk above him, and he fell back onto the pillow with an agonized groan. His muscles hurt a great deal, but not so much as his last conscious moments. Sitting up with more care, Harry leaned over and began to devour his soup. Chicken noodle? Oh well, he wasn’t about to be picky. Somebody had charmed it to remain hot until he was awake to eat it. It felt great going down his throat. He spent several long minutes focusing on nothing but the soup, in quite a state of bliss. He knew it was some cheap brand, full of salt, but it still tasted heavenly. He had been so very hungry.

He had finished about half of the bowl when he noticed how the bed was shaking. Last time he was on a vibrating bed, there was a Monster Book of Monsters underneath that caused the shaking. However, this time the shaking came from above. Harry froze as he watched the mattress above quiver, proving that the person in the top bunk was tossing and turning very rapidly. Now that his focus was brought in that direction, he could hear soft crying. Much like the crying he heard when he first approached Draco in the alley, but quieter. Terror, agony…

“Mal- err, Draco?” Harry whispered, doubt and worry filling his mind.

“Go away,” Draco’s trembling voice came. “Granger is in room 6. Stay with her.” If Harry hadn’t been worried before, he was now. Not by the fact that Draco was warning him to leave, but by the fact that he called Hermione ‘Granger’ instead of ‘Mudblood’. It suddenly hit Harry that, this entire time, Draco had been acting extremely human towards him and Hermione. Taking another gulp of soup, he made up his mind to ignore Draco’s demand and pursue the problem.

Harry stumbled out of bed, noting that his legs shook and he had been dressed in green silk pajamas. He briefly wondered who had taken off his other clothes and dressed him in his sleep, but then swiftly decided that he didn’t care to know. Taking his glasses from the bedside table, Harry stumbled to the ladder and climbed onto the top bunk. He was met with a trembling wad of blankets. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked, trying to keep his voice empty.

“Mmph… go away,” Draco mumbled, muffled by his covers. Without a moment’s thought, Harry whisked the blankets off. He felt like an idiot afterwards. Malfoy was clad only in a pair of shiny silver boxers, and a layer of sweat that made his pale skin glisten. “Damn it, Harry!” Draco shrieked, grabbing the blankets back and burying himself in shame. He left his face exposed, letting Harry see the malicious glint in his eyes. Face burning, Harry mumbled a swift apology. “Go away!”

“Not until I know what’s wrong with you,” Harry stated stubbornly. On a second thought, he added, “and not until I get some answers.”

“Answers to what?” Draco groaned, burying his head.

“As to what happened,” Harry hissed. “Why you were on Privet Drive, what happened in that alley, how I got here. I want to know how much of truth you told Hermione. I want to know why you aren’t at home, asleep in some ridiculously over-pillowed bed, surrounded by bowing house elves. Why you’re this messed up. Why you claim to not be a Malfoy.”

“That’s a lot of questions,” the pale boy whispered. He curled into a tighter ball, still shaking. Harry sat down with his legs crossed, intending not to move until he knew what was going on and Draco stopped shaking like that.

“Just answer them.”

Draco’s gray eye poked out of the blanket. “In what order?” he drawled, voice quivering. Obviously, he was merely trying to be his usual self, but whatever caused him to shake like this had robbed him of his snide.

“Stop avoiding the subject,” Harry groaned.

“I didn’t realize there was a subject,” Draco sighed. Though his eyelids dropped, and his gaze became unfocused, his gray eyes were filled with a sparkly red glow.

“Answer me, DAMMIT! What's going on?!” Abandoning his calm listening pose, Harry propped himself over Draco. He was trying to be somewhat intimidating, since the pale boy hadn’t taken him seriously. The blankets fell off the startled boy, but they weren’t concerned about modesty at this point. Draco’s glazed eyes slowly slid their focus back onto Harry. More specifically, Harry’s scar. Draco’s eyes were definitely glowing now, and it was definitely not a trick of the light. They were tinted a flaming red, yet so full of alarm that Harry almost withdrew. Almost.

“I…” the trapped boy began. He slowly closed his eyes. When they opened, the eyebrows suddenly creased downward in unmistakable rage. The red glow was almost blinding. “**** you,” Draco snarled, in a voice so unlike his own. Harry hadn’t expected a polite admission, but this was a little much. He leaned back a couple inches, alarm visible in his emerald eyes as an enraged hissing noise came from the Slytherin below him. It became as loud as a shriek after several seconds. “**** you!” Draco screamed, suddenly thrashing underneath Harry, who grabbed the bedpost to stop from being knocked off the bunk.

“Stop that!” Harry squeaked, before crying out as Draco slammed a palm into his chest and sent him back into the mattress.

“**** you, **** you, **** you!” Draco was spitting under his breath, his whole body trembling and jerking like a puppet that was being controlled by two hands at war.

Harry was afraid, and rightfully so, that Draco had completely lost his mind. “Calm down!” Harry pleaded, reaching forward to try and still the boy’s flailing limbs. He had to brace his legs between the mattress and the wood that supported it, burying his feet in blanket as he struggled to hold the Slytherin still. Draco was making a real ruckus, hissing and spitting and crashing against the walls, making the bed squeak. Over the noise, Harry barely heard the door click open. But hear it, he did.

“****, Harry,” Draco snarled.

This sounded a bit odd in his ears, but Harry ignored it. He was a little bit more preoccupied with staring at Hermione in the doorway. She had the oddest look on her face, lips very tight and her eyebrows were twitching. Was she… blushing? “Sorry,” she said quickly. “I’ll, err, come back when you’re done!”

Done with what?

… Oh.

… Oh.

Oh, hell, this looks WRONG! Harry mentally screamed. After all, he was in his pajamas, feet curled up in the blankets, and he was pinning a panting and very sweaty Draco down to the mattress! Hermione burst into peels of laughter and ran out the door, slamming it with all speed. “Hermione! Come back!” Harry yelled, his lungs aching for a brief moment. “That was NOT what it looked like!” His pleading call was interrupted by gleeful laughter right below him, and Harry looked down with shock to see Draco laughing hysterically. “It’s not funny!” Harry bellowed.

“Yes, it is,” Draco choked, eyes tearing up with laughter. They were no longer glowing red, just gray and sparkling with salty tears.

“You did that… All that, just to…” Harry sputtered. Disgusted wasn’t a strong enough word for his perspective. The laughing boy beneath him took a huge gasp of air, and as Harry opened his mouth to yell at him, Draco silenced him with a hand over his mouth.

“You must admit, it was funny,” Draco chuckled. Harry slapped the long fingers away from his mouth and raised a fist, more than prepared to mutilate Draco's precious face. “Don’t hit me! There’s a very good reason I did that, really.”

“You have three seconds,” Harry growled. He lowered his fist, but his fingers were itching to wrap around the blonde’s throat.

“My cover story!” Draco quipped hurriedly. Harry froze. “I told her that your filthy Muggle relatives tried to kill you.”

“What does that have to do with-?”

“-And the only reason I was there to rescue you,” Draco said loudly, cutting off Harry, “was because we have a very intimate relationship going. I was paying my nightly visit to you.”


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Old Post Jan 21st, 2006 10:11 AM
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heres the rest of chapter three:

“Nightly…” As realization hit Harry, the raven-haired boy stumbled away from Draco, almost falling off the bed. “Oh GOD, you twisted bastard! Now Hermione thinks I’m… oh, God,” Harry groaned. He must have done a good job telling this story to Hermione, because she clearly believed they were as intimate as Draco claimed. There goes his reputation. Wait, if Hermione was here, didn’t that mean Ron had been notified as well? Oh God, oh Merlin, now his two best friends would think he was a pouf. A pouf dating their worst enemy for years, at that! Draco only continued to laugh with wicked mirth. “That’s why she’s being so nice to you.” Harry began to piece things together.

“Your precious Granger would never hurt something that matters so much to you,” the pale boy chuckled. “Don’t worry; she took the news rather well. She even held me at wand-point, and made me promise to take good care of you.”

“And she must think I’ve been keeping secrets from her again,” Harry groaned. His head fell against the wall, and he turned away from Draco, closing his eyes. Seeing Draco there, laughing at him, in his shiny boxers, was just too much for Harry.

“She doesn’t blame you. She’s been keeping secrets from you as well,” the Slytherin declared, his laughter dying somewhat. “I think you’re the last one to realize her feelings for Weasley. It’s disgusting, the things they’ve done in broom closets.” Harry shut his eyes tighter. He knew that, and it still bothered him a little that they had never told him, but he knew by now what was between his two best mates. Draco’s voice lowered in volume, and he whispered, almost as if to himself, “Weasley and a Mudblood… It’s practically bestiality.”

Harry’s eyes snapped open. “You take that back, Malfoy,” he hissed dangerously, still refusing to look towards the pale young man.

“It is,” Draco said lightly, seemingly oblivious to Harry‘s violent thoughts. He seemed rather spacey, pulling random thoughts from his head and speaking them as casually as if talking to his reflection. “Most creatures are classified by their physical and magical traits. Muggles and Wizards are definitely separate species, but since they’re physically compatible for having children, you always see hybrids like Granger running about… It‘s rather sad.” Harry turned to stare at Draco, filled with such a horrible rage upon hearing his friend being called a hybrid that it wouldn‘t even register on his face. His hands were moving slowly towards Draco‘s lopsided figure. What exactly he was going to do to Draco, Harry didn‘t have planned, but he knew it would hurt. Draco continued to speak softly. “Oh well. I’m not even a wizard anymore, so I can’t talk about Pureblood superiority. Doesn‘t that make you happy, Harry?”

Harry’s hands froze several inches from Draco‘s arm. “What?” he asked blankly.

“You haven’t figured it out yet?” Draco gasped incredulously, sitting up and giving Harry a stare of his own. “Why I need a cover story when I haven’t done anything wrong? How you saved my life by getting hurt in that alley? Why I was near your house in the first place?”

“No,” Harry whispered. So, now Draco was willing to tell him the truth.

The pale boy sighed. “Do you want the sweet and simple explanation, or shall I give you the full story?”

“Give me a History lesson,” Harry commanded. The Slytherin sat erect, crossed his legs, and pulled the blanket around him. Despite Harry’s shocked squeak, he wrapped a bit of the huge blanket around Harry’s thin torso as well.

“It’s going to be a long History lesson,” Draco whispered, eyes glinting. He pushed Harry‘s glasses a little high on his nose, to make sure the Gryffindor could see him properly. With a small smirk, he brushed a bit of black hair out of Harry’s eyes as well. Harry shivered slightly, unnerved by the closeness of their bodies and the way Draco casually touched his face. “So, you’d best stay awake. I might take away some house points if you fall asleep on me.”

“Just tell the damn story,” Harry pleaded.

“Ten thousand points from Gryffindor for interrupting!”

“DRACO…”

“Fine.” Draco took a deep breath, shook his blond head, and drifted into the land of his memories. “It actually starts a couple weeks before fifth year ended…”

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Old Post Jan 21st, 2006 10:12 AM
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embarrasment no ones posted oh well heres chapter four:

CHAPTER FOUR: The Twisted Life of Draco Malfoy, p.1

“It actually starts a couple weeks before last school year ended…”



When Harry realized just how far back this story was going to go, he shifted his legs slightly and pulled the blanket tighter around him. By doing so, he accidentally deprived Draco of his precious boxer-hiding covers. The pale young man hissed slightly, gray eyes furrowing as he snatched the blankets back. “You’re already interrupting again! That’ll be two million points from Gryffindor!”

“You’re not entitled to take away points, and we’re not even back at school yet!” Harry groaned. He wished Draco would stop complaining and get on with the explanation, which would clearly take all night. “And stop hogging the blankets, you prat. I’m rather cold.” Draco’s glare softened, and to Harry’s immense surprise, Draco untangled himself from the blankets, wrapping them around Harry. His movements were languid, his expression resigned. Harry’s brain froze as he realized Draco was mothering him. “What are you…” Harry began, but then he thought better of it. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Because I’m indebted to you,” Draco said softly. His expression was now unreadable. “It’s my fault you’re cold. That‘s a general effect of blood loss.” Draco pulled his long, pale legs back, and leaned over the edge of the bunk, to reach down and retrieve Harry’s blanket from below. He promptly made himself slightly more decent, wrapping himself up as carefully as a royal gift.

“I don’t understand,” Harry began desperately. Draco cut him off, with a scowl and a shake of the head. His blond hair fell in his eyes, and he quickly brushed it back in place.

“I know. That’s why you need to shut up and let me tell the story.”



Several weeks before the school year ended, things had been relatively normal for me. I went to all my classes and took my final exams. I sat with Crabbe and Goyle, talking about insignificant things like Quidditch and how annoying the GREAT Harry Potter was.



“I don’t want to hear about daily life as Draco Malfoy!” Harry spat, interrupting the blond. “I want to know what lead up to-”

“I’m getting there!” Draco snarled, leaning toward Harry. For a moment, his eyes seemed to glisten unnaturally. “I’m just setting the scene. You wanted a story, and a story you’ll receive.”



I thought things were absolutely wonderful. Then I got a letter from my father. Yes, he was still in Azkaban, and he wasn’t happy about it. He made certain to get that point across. The main topic of this letter was Harry Bloody ****ing Potter. Not a request to spy on you, or anything. It was a warning. He claimed that a visitor told him you were plotting something to get me thrown in Azkaban as well. He didn’t know what your grand plan was, nor when it would go into action, but he seemed certain that you had one. He wanted me to watch my back, watch my companions for any wavering loyalties, and most importantly, watch out for you.

He was paranoid. No matter how much respect I had for my father, I could tell. But I did what he told me to. I found that some of the Slytherins weren’t as involved with the Dark Lord as I had thought. Still, I saw no reason they should turn against me. I watched you with suspicion, but you never even looked at me. You were doing the same things everybody else was. Eating, or trying to catch up on your studies.

I got another letter from father, saying that my mother had turned on him and I was not to return to the Malfoy Manor after school ended. I knew that it was going too far, since mother was so far away from him. She was in hiding, so she hadn’t sent him any owls, nor visited. There was no reason he should assume she was against him.



“Azkaban messes with people’s minds, Draco,” Harry said slowly. He had heard the resentment and anger slowly build in the blonde’s voice, and he found that he didn’t like where this was going. Draco shook his head, gray eyes closed.

“It wasn’t just Azkaban. Ever since the Dark Lord’s return in fourth year, he’d been acting rather odd. It’s only gotten worse with every Death Eater meeting.” Harry felt a miniature wave of nausea.

“Voldemort messes with people’s minds, too.” Draco said nothing, head bowed, not looking at Harry. Harry knew what a difficult subject it was, so he changed it. “Get on with the story.”



Anyway, father sent me the key to our Gringotts vault, instructing me to get some cash and find a new place to live immediately after school ended. What he failed to realize was that I would be homeless while finding a home. I talked to Crabbe and Goyle about letting me stay with them as I found a new place, but they said they couldn’t help me. All the other Slytherins said the same.

I considered asking for help from the professors, but decided against it. I knew I needed help, but I wasn’t about to beg a Huffelpuff or a Gryffindor for help, so I turned to Ravenclaw. My first choice was Cho Chang.



“I’ll bet that went well,” Harry muttered, a huge smirk plastered on his face. Draco grimaced.



Needless to say, she told me where I could shove it, so I gave up finding help from students. I was still watching my back, in case father was right about you, but it was pointless. I overheard you plotting a raid of the school kitchens, and that seemed to be the most devious thing you had going. That’s not devious at all. It made me wonder just how you were such a big threat to the Dark Lord.

So, I pondered that and decided to do a little bit of spy work. No, I didn’t spy on you, I was spying on Dumbledore. I didn’t find out anything interesting for about a week, until I broke into his office and looked into his Pensieve.

I heard the entire Prophecy.



“You didn’t tell anyone?” Harry asked sharply. His hands had clenched into fists, his knuckles very white. “People have died over that Prophecy.”

“And some certain people have yet to die over it,” Draco answered, staring straight into Harry’s green eyes. The smaller boy fidgeted, not liking the reminder of his destiny. Kill Voldemort or be killed… It wasn’t a very pleasant Prophecy. Harry pulled the blanket tighter around him, to still his shivering. “I may be the son of a Death Eater, but I don’t want to cause trouble on that level. I kept what I learned to myself.”

“You’d better keep doing so.”

“I will.”



That made me re-think my opinion of you. I still watched you whenever I could, but not with suspicion. I was looking for any hidden powers you might have had. I already knew about Parsletongue, but everyone knew about that, and it wasn’t much of a power to help you against the Dark Lord. Thanks to what happened to my family, I no longer knew which side of the war to support, and I was interested in finding out who had the upper hand. On the last day of school, I finally made up my mind to talk to you about it, but we didn’t have any of the same classes, and I couldn’t find you.

I was absolutely miserable when I got on the train. Nobody wanted to be near me, not even Crabbe and Goyle. I got a car to myself. But I had some unexpected luck- it was the car right next to yours, and with a couple spells I was able to eavesdrop on your conversation with your friends.

I was somewhat upset about not finding out anything important. You talked about relationships. How you didn’t have one. I caught you hinting that Weasley and Granger should hook up, and that gave me a laugh, but I knew they’d end up together anyway. I’d seen it coming since third year. I found it strange that you had no significant other. Then I thought of the Prophecy, and it struck me that you were protecting people by not getting too involved with them. I thought that was a really pathetic way to live.



“It would have been very selfish of me to put somebody in danger by being close to me,” Harry sighed. He didn’t really appreciate the pale boy’s commentary on his lack of a love life, especially since Draco had pretended to fill the ’significant other’ niche. Draco smirked slightly.

“And that’s why you’re in Gryffindor, not Slytherin. Your life was predetermined to be ****ed up. You could be murdered at any given time, Harry. You deserve to be selfish, just once in your inevitably short life.” Harry frowned slightly, looking away from Draco. “Besides, you’ve gotten people hurt by putting their safety above yours.”

Harry’s head snapped up.

“Sirius Black might have lived, if you hadn’t run off to ‘save’ him.” Harry bit back a snarl and buried his head in the blanket. He didn’t want to see the earnest look on Draco’s face, and, more importantly, he didn’t want Draco to see his eyes watering. There was no hint of malice in the boy, and that made it almost more difficult to listen to him. “You should try life as something other than a hero. No offense, but you’re more pathetic than Longbottom in that sense. Just live a little.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to corrupt me,” Harry spat.

“But you obviously know better.”

“You’re trying to make me value other people’s lives less!” Harry hissed, drying his tears swiftly on his blanket and unburying his face. He fixed Draco with a glare that could melt through walls, wishing for a split second that he was a basilisk. The pale boy didn‘t flinch or look away, meeting Harry‘s gaze more calmly than Dumbledore could ever have. “Have you ever had to-”

“Shall I continue?” Draco interrupted, not wanting to fight Harry so soon. Harry gave Draco a rather defeated look, and nodded slightly.

“I need to know what happened.”

“Fifty billion points from Gryffindor, for stating the obvious!”


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Old Post Jan 22nd, 2006 02:01 AM
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SO FAR ITS GOOD.
I LIKE IT PLIZ POST MORE


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Old Post Jan 22nd, 2006 03:47 AM
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Yay! Replys! Here is Chapter Five!

CHAPTER FIVE: The Twisted Life of Draco Malfoy, p.2

When I got off of the Hogwarts Express, I didn’t really know what to do. All of my companions were leaving with their parents. I just got my stuff and stood there, watching everybody vanish. I watched Granger vanish with her parents. It was actually rather humbling. They were poor, they were Muggles, and they were ugly- but Granger just ran up laughing and hugged them, and I- Merlin, I was jealous because I had never been allowed to do that to my parents in public. I was definitely jealous of the fact that she had parents to pick her up.

I thought I was the only one that felt like that, but then I saw you. Your Muggle relatives were there, and I only noticed them because the fat teen hit you. You looked as miserable as I felt. I went up to talk to you, but that scrawny woman- your aunt, isn’t she? -she gave me this horrid glare, and I got the idea that you’d be punished if I went to speak to you. So I backed down. But I did overhear the word “Surry,” so I vaguely knew where you lived.

After you left, I had nowhere to go, so I picked a random direction and went that way.



“Well, that was stupid,” Harry chided. “You should have asked somebody for directions to Diagon Alley before all the magic folk left.”

“I realize that now,” Draco sighed. He stretched in a rather cat-like way, entwining his hands over his head as he yawned. Harry couldn’t help it but notice he almost glowed in the faint moonlight. Unlike Harry, who looked like a scruffy and underfed street urchin with gasoline in his hair (in his own opinion), Draco managed to look elegant, despite his obviously recent downfall. He looked very much like a male veela, with his white skin and hair, and somewhat feminine facial features. Harry had known for quite some time that, if he wasn’t such a prick, many Hogwarts girls would have been drooling at his feet. But he’d never bothered to get a good look at him. Now, since the pale boy wore nothing but boxers and a blanket, and there little else to look at, Harry was getting his look.

“Why didn’t you?”

“I was too angry to be intelligent. Let me continue.”



As you can guess, I got completely lost. I hated lugging all my belongings behind me like that, since, yes, they were all I really had left. It was quite a shock when night fell and I realized I still didn’t have a bed to sleep on. I’d never been in Muggle London before, nor had I been homeless, and the world was a rather frightening place at the time. I ended falling asleep under a road that raised itself in the air above another- what are those things called? Ah, an overpass. I slept under an overpass. I hated the ugly thing when I fell asleep, but I was grateful in the morning, since it was raining and I couldn’t charm my belongings to stay dry.

I had some candy left over from the trolley for breakfast. It stopped raining around noon, and I headed off again. I got lucky. Some old squib recognized me for the Malfoy that I was, and though she made it clear that I was the scum of the earth and should have been killed the second I was born, she told me how I could reach a man that would exchange my galleons for Muggle money.



“What did she look like?” Harry interrupted.

“Somewhat like Professor McGonagall in Muggle clothes,” Draco shrugged. “She was riding around in a chair with wheels, carrying a sack of cat food.” Harry grinned broadly.

“Mrs. Figg went to London about that time to see me when I got off the train. You must have missed her at King’s Cross.” His face fell slowly. “You must have been one of the last people to see her. She was murdered a couple days after that.” Draco snapped out of his bored reverie, giving Harry a worried and somewhat confused look.

“Was she…?”

“She was in the Order of the Phoenix.” Harry nodded. “She used to live around here. I would get sent to her house on Dudley’s birthdays, because they didn’t want me hanging around at his parties… They'd rather I go be miserable with some batty old coot than share cake with their beloved Dinky Duddy-kins.”

Draco was silent for a minute. “They hated you that much?” he asked eventually. Harry’s look hardened as he focused on Draco’s gray eyes.

“They took away my wand the second I got home, saying they hoped Voldemort would find me and kill me as soon as possible. Every year, they‘ve given me hell, starving me and making me do all the work around the house. Until I got my Hogwarts letter, they tried everything to keep me from finding out that I was a wizard.“ Draco’s eyes widened. Harry took a slow, calming breath, but it wasn‘t enough to keep the tremor out of his voice. “They tried to beat the magic out of me.”

There was another minute of silence while Draco took this information in. Harry held as still as a statue, a non-enchanted one anyway, knowing Draco was looking him over with curiosity. He hoped there was a small bit of pity in that glance, but he didn’t look up to see. He was certain Draco was scowling, at least inwardly. The first time they met, he had complained to Harry about the idiotic half-bloods that didn’t know they were wizards until they received their letters. Harry had always felt stung, knowing that he fit Draco’s description of the ideal idiotic half-blood.

Harry didn‘t have to hold his breath for long.

“****ing idiots,” Draco said after a minute. “Half the time, repressing something only makes it stronger in the end. No wonder you were so confused when we met in Diagon Alley. Shall I go on?” Harry nodded briefly, shaking off his small fit of depression.



I eventually found the man she spoke of, and got my galleons traded in for Muggle money. I was lucky enough to find a real good man who didn’t rip me off. Or, so I assume, because I was no less rich as a Muggle than I was as a wizard. But I was still homeless, and I told him that I needed to find Diagon Alley. He actually didn’t know how to get there the Muggle way. But he did tell me where I could find the office of the Ministry of Magic, and I knew that would be helpful, so that’s where I went. It took another two days to get there, since I kept losing my way, and I had gone off the route a few times in search of lavatories or restaurants.



“Just as a helpful hint, to make it seem more like we’ve been dating, you should know that my favorite food is sushi,” Draco added playfully. Harry gaped.

“That’s my favorite as well,” he said dully.

“That spares me the awkwardness of asking you later,” Draco laughed brightly. “And now I know what to poison!” Harry glared. “I’m joking, Harry, joking…”



Continuing on, when I found the Ministry of Magic, I felt rather awkward. The phone booth asked me why I was there, and I hadn’t thought it through very well, so I said I was looking for a place to live. I got an identification badge that said “Draco Malfoy, hobo-ness relief.”



Harry burst into peels of laughter, though Draco was clearly not amused. “If you’re quite done, I’d like to get on with the story.”

“Sure, sure,” Harry waved, choking slightly on his laughter. It hurt his chest somewhat Catching his breath, he stared up at Draco, black hair dangling in his eyes as he completed his chuckling. “Hobo-ness relief… I’m going to use that against you, you know. I don’t know how, but I will.” The pale boy’s eye’s narrowed dangerously, tinting red for a split second.

“The second anybody hears about that, I’m telling Rita Skeeter about the Prophecy.” Harry wisely stopped laughing.



Anyway, as soon as I walked in, I knew I made a mistake. Everyone was looking at me like I was some sort of monster. I tried to ask a few people directions to Diagon Alley, but nobody would talk to me. I ended up going up to the receptionist. She talked to me, but it wasn’t what I wanted to hear… She was worse than the old squib. She actually cussed me out in front of everybody, and I could tell they all agreed with her, by the looks on their faces. I tried to calm her down. I was as nice as a stressed-out and insulted Malfoy could possibly be. She eventually screamed out that I was a murderous, evil Death Eater, right when the Aurors left a meeting and were heading out for lunch. I ended up having to drop all my belongings and run for my life. All the Quidditch training obviously paid off, since I managed to dodge almost all their curses.
When I finally got out of there, I went as far as my legs could take me. That wasn’t all that far, considering that a curse nailed my left knee, and it didn’t want to support my weight. I hadn’t the foggiest idea which way I had gone. If I hadn’t felt wretched before, I was feeling wretched then. I’d left my wand and my money behind, as well as the key to my vault, and I doubted they’d have to courtesy to save my stuff for me. I never did own an owl, so I couldn’t contact my father. For once, I really had nothing to my name.



“What about your house?” Harry asked softly. His eyes had become rather glazed as he mulled over Draco‘s former situation. “You might have been told to avoid it, but don’t you still own it?”

“I’ll get there in a few minutes, Harry,” Draco said, with a very obvious scowl.


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Old Post Jan 24th, 2006 02:48 AM
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Gender: Female
Location: Hiding From Snape, Where Else?

I ended up falling asleep behind some old dumpster. When I woke up the next morning, I was ravenous. Knowing I couldn’t get any food, sadly, made me feel even hungrier. I knew I couldn’t sink much lower, so I got up and decided I was going to steal something to eat. I hadn’t gone very far when I found the first Wanted poster. I had a 200 galleon price tag on my head, and I hadn’t even done anything. Since this was Muggle London, they chose an appropriate excuse for me being wanted- murder. I know how the system works, and when they put up wanted posters for a person, they take away all their assets. I figured they had taken the Malfoy Manor and sent all the elves away. I found out later that they really had done that, but I’ll get there some other time.

Now, all that really pissed me off, but my stomach came first. I ambled about in search of an open window or a child with a sandwich. At the first place I found, I’d tripped on my way through the window, and landed face-first in the house owner’s sink. They had left their dishes half-washed, so I broke a lot of cups, and it made a fair racket. I was halfway back out when I got caught.

I was lucky to not be killed. I was even luckier to find that the woman of the house had only just gotten out of school, and was so desperate for a housemate that she took me in. She didn’t recognize me, so I introduced myself as Harry Potter and she didn’t think anything of it. The very next day, I got a job as a waiter at a nearby Japanese restaurant.



“Wait, you used my name?”

“It was the first name to come to mind,” Draco defended himself. “It’s also a rather common name. Haven’t you used a fake name before?”

“Once,” Harry said slowly. He couldn’t help it but smirk at the memory. “I told Stan Shunpike on the Knight Bus that my name was Neville Longbottom.”

Draco didn’t stop laughing for ten minutes.


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Old Post Jan 24th, 2006 02:48 AM
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dumbledorez.gal
BewareMyRoar--x'

Gender: Female
Location: Hiding From Snape, Where Else?

Here is a pic of all the characters in DKP!

DuMbLeDoReZ.GaL

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Old Post Jan 24th, 2006 02:58 AM
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~*LoverGirl21*~
I luv my gorgeous face!

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GREAT POST MORE!!!!!!!!!!! PLIZ =)


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Old Post Jan 24th, 2006 04:27 AM
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dumbledorez.gal
BewareMyRoar--x'

Gender: Female
Location: Hiding From Snape, Where Else?

awwww! i have fans! cant post more though. word is mucking up. damm thing. i have the whole story (all 24 chapters) saved on my comp and now i cant get to it. sad anyway should b able to post in half an hour, if i can fix this

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Old Post Jan 24th, 2006 07:55 AM
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dumbledorez.gal
BewareMyRoar--x'

Gender: Female
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yay! i banged word into shape! feeling depressed but shall post nxt chapter

CHAPTER SIX: Tweaked Explanations

The story had temporarily been put on hold, since the sun was rising and Draco needed his rest. “After all, I did carry you all the way from Surrey to London,” he proclaimed. “I wasn’t lying about that part.” It made Harry wonder just how honest Draco was, but he was certain there hadn’t even been much exaggeration in Draco’s tale. Most of the things Draco said had fit Harry’s experience so well, they couldn’t have been made up. “I sleep like the dead,” Draco informed him, “so, as long as you don’t make enough noise to wake the dead, it won’t bother me. But do keep the curtains shut. I don’t want to wake up with my skin red and peeling off.” That was an odd request, but Harry didn’t open the curtain. Though he had been up half the night, Harry felt wide awake.

So, Harry got himself dressed. Since his things were still with the Dursleys- assuming they hadn’t burned Harry’s belongings by now- he made do with the folded clothes he found in the dresser, with ‘for Harry, from Hermione and Ron’ written on a card that lie on top. The price tags hadn’t been removed, and he smiled as he realized they were the cheapest things that could be found in Madam Malkin’s Robe Shop. They were actually a lot better than the huge hand-me-down things he’d been wearing when he found Draco: black slacks, a somewhat tight green shirt, and a black robe with green cuffs.

Harry soon went downstairs for breakfast. His legs were still rather wobbly, but he managed to stay upright. Of course, that was until Ron barreled up to him and gave him a hug nearly as bone-crushing as Hagrid’s most enthusiastic glomps. “Harry! You’re okay! Hermione wouldn’t let me come see you- you idiot, why didn’t you tell us you were in trouble- Harry, you lousy, useless IDIOT!” The relieved redhead proceeded to sob on Harry’s shoulder, oblivious to the raven-haired boy’s attempts to begin breathing again.

A few minutes (and some artificial respiration) later, Harry received another hug from Charlie, who was taking care of Ron after the murder of their parents. Charlie had changed a bit since Harry last saw him; he now rivaled Bill’s coolness, sporting Muggle attire that would have blended in a rave. He too had a fang earring and had grown his fiery red hair longer, but his hair was shorter than Bill’s, and his fang was larger. Harry assumed it came from one of the dragons Charlie worked with. He hoped it wasn’t poisonous.

“That outfit looks good on you, mate,” Ron said, after he’d stopped having seizures in his delight. “You look like a real wizard, instead of…” He trailed off, realizing Hermione and Charlie were giving him blatant warning glares.

“An elephant?” Harry submitted helpfully.

“Well, yeah! I guess having stuff in your own size helps out, doesn’t it?” Laughter came from all around the table as they ate the famously inferior Leaky Cauldron pancakes, with some of the other guests. They went on to chat idly, mentioning nothing important. This was mostly because the important things were matters of utmost secrecy, but partly because they were happy about being reunited.

“Is Draco ever going to come down?” Hermione eventually asked. Harry shrugged. “It’s a pity. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind a shopping trip, after all he‘s been through.” She looked substantially disheartened. Harry figured that she must be extremely grateful to Draco for rescuing him. Of course, Draco was the one that attacked him, but Harry still couldn’t understand what happened. He didn’t know why Draco needed that cover story, but he assumed it was important. He had decided to play along with Draco’s story until he knew the truth.

“I don’t think he wants to walk any more,” Harry muttered. Hermione looked miffed, but Ron defended Harry’s stance immediately.

“He’s a lot better for wear than I’d be in his ratty old shoes! I’d sleep for a week, if I carried somebody all that way! Besides, I bet him and Harry got loads of exercise last night,” Ron said obliviously. Charlie snorted in amusement, almost choking on his bacon. Harry dropped his knife in a puddle of syrup, completely aghast.

“Hermione!” he squawked indignantly. She blushed and gave him a rather apologetic look. Harry sputtered helplessly for a minute before finally saying, “you’ve all got it wrong. We didn’t, we’ve never-”

“I know,” Hermione said pleasantly. “Neither of you can get hold of protection right now, and you’re both far too wise to go all the way without it. Right?” This last word as added in a rather dangerous tone. Harry gulped loudly, and nodded. “See, Ron? I told you they were having some private time, not doing anything obscene!” Ron flushed bight red, starting with his ears.

“Well, with all the noises getting through the walls, I just assumed things,” he sighed. It was Harry’s turn to blush, now feeling stupid for all the laughing and snarling he and Draco had done while talking. He really wished they’d change the subject. It was Charlie who came to his rescue.

“So, who wants the happy task of liberating Harry’s stuff from the Dursleys?” Charlie asked loudly, and a bit too brightly. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared at him in surprise. A bit of egg fell out of Ron’s open mouth. “No, Harry, you’re staying away from those monsters. I’d like a little company when I pay them a visit,” Charlie said, over-enunciating every syllable. Hermione and Ron took the hint, and claimed they’d do anything to help Harry, but he could hear the clear resentment in their voices.

He was also filled with dread. If they went to the Dursleys, they’d probably find out that his relatives hadn’t made an attempt at Harry‘s life, and Draco’s cover story would be ruined. “Actually,” Harry cut in, “I want to go. You know, my stuff can wait a few days, and I want a break.” He hoped they bought it. “Besides, some of my stuff is hidden. There’s a small stash under some floorboards, and I still don’t know where Vernon hid my wand.” That certainly did the trick. They all nodded. “So, what’s on today’s schedule?”

“Well, first is the fattening up of Harry Potter,” Hermione said pointedly, raking her eyes over Harry’s rake-like figure. “Who is going to eat everything on his plate, and get seconds, before anybody says another word to him.” Harry tried to scowl, but he ended up smiling. Everybody was mothering him! Hermione made the others keep her promise, cutting them off whenever they tried to make auditory contact with Harry. He didn’t mind eating a lot, though.

When he finished his orange juice and loaded his plate with more pancakes, he asked for the schedule once more. It turned out that they were going to do their school shopping early, and after the ‘recent turn of events,’ Hermione and Ron planned on staying in London with Harry for the remainder of August, rather than going back into hiding. “Besides, we’ve got a Death Eater’s kid on our side!” Ron said brightly, earning himself a playful smack from Hermione. This was accompanied by a peck on the cheek. Harry grinned.

“He’d be too sleepy to be much help to us, if his dad decided to walk out of Azkaban and curse us to bits,” Harry assured them. It wasn’t a very funny joke, but they laughed anyway. “He sleeps like he’s dead.” They decided to return after shopping and check if Draco was awake enough to get sushi for lunch and ice-cream at the new sweet shop. This was Harry’s recommendation.

Soon enough, the famed Gryffindor Trio and Charlie were heading out the door. As they entered Diagon Alley, Hermione started up a conversation with Charlie about the different dragon breeds. The subject got rather dull for Harry, rather fast, so he fell back to blabber with Ron. As they entered Flourish and Blotts, Ron asked a fatal question. “So, err, Harry… how long have you been into blokes?” Harry only stared at him, having no answer at all.


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Old Post Jan 25th, 2006 09:41 AM
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BewareMyRoar--x'

Gender: Female
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Here is a drawing of a malfoy ferret! (you can notice the blonde hair)

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Old Post Jan 25th, 2006 09:50 AM
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Home » Misc » General Fiction Area » Harry Potter Fiction » A Different Kind of Pureblood - Chapter One

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