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Teach Me	By : pipdfunnybunny Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 12132 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Co. are not
mine�they are exclusive property of the gifted J.K. Rowling. I make no money from this.

Summary: Harry Potter is a poor
young man at wits� end. Draco Malfoy is a spoiled, violent noble who needs a
tutor. A fit of magical temper brings Harry into Draco�s world, and the young
wizard is reluctant to let this apparently ordinary boy go. Is it really up to
Draco, though?

Warnings: Foul language, graphic
male/male sex, and violence. Also, possibly non-consent. We�ll see.

In this
chapter: No
smut, sadly�but immediate interaction between characters. Let me build the plot
just a little, honeys. Clarification: Harry doesn�t have magical powers.
He�s ordinary here, hehe. (^^,)

Reviews are badly needed�but flames will be used to
roast the people who sent them. Heehee. (^^,)

Chapter 1

Wanted Help

Harry
James Potter took off his spectacles, running a hand through his naturally
disheveled hair. The dark locks were coarse and caked with mud, and he winced
as his hand snagged in several places. Absently he decided that it was
pointless to try and wipe his glasses on his shirt�the pristine cotton was now
as muddy as his hair�and he swallowed the abject misery that tightened his
throat.

Standing
underneath the thick trees as rain poured in depressing amounts around him, he
tried to peer down the road for a sign of any fellow traveler. It was the hope
that someone else would be coming down this miserable path near nighttime in
the middle of a downpour that kept him from jumping out onto the road and
dancing in the rain�if only to wash off the mud he got on himself when he fell
from his horse.

Bloody animal.

The
lightning had frightened the grey badly, and Harry himself had been caught
unawares. That had resulted in a rather painful tumble after the mare ran
frantically off the main road and into the forest, which ruined his clothes and
his already strained mood, while the mare had galloped off with his things�his
money, his clothes, and his all-important books. His shock at how quickly the
sunny afternoon had evolved into a thunderstorm had given way as he registered
how much he had lost due to it.

Shit.

How
was he supposed to face his uncle now? Vernon Dursley would tan his hide if he
found out Harry had lost possession of the precious items that Harry had ridden
all the way to the coast to acquire. The shipping had been expensive, but given
the rarity of the finds Harry had no trouble parting with much of Vernon�s grudgingly-given gold.
After all, did everyone come across books of alchemy, mind-reading, psychic
prowess, and clairvoyance everyday? Granted, Vernon had instructed him to
purchase romance novels and books of history and arithmetic�which Harry had
done, though sparingly. The special books he had placed in a different bag�one
he had planned to hide from his uncle and read on his own before discreetly
placing them on the shelves of Vernon�s bookshop. The man would
never notice, and if he did he would assume the books were under the �Special
Order� tab he kept for certain customers�books for �kooks� and �loonies� who
had �nothing better to do.�

But
if the mare managed to make her way home without Harry and Vernon went through his things...

Harry
sighed. It was unlikely that the mare would make it far, though. When he had
fallen off barely an hour ago, they were still two days away from Little
Winging, where Vernon was waiting for him to
return. It was probable that some bored townsfolk along the way or even more
probable, some bored bandits would catch the poor beast, raid the items she
bore, and put her to work.

Her
future appeared bright and hopeful in comparison to Harry�s.

If
he returned to Vernon without the shipping, it
was very likely that he would get a brutal beating, a few weeks without food,
and probably a new load on his debt. At seventeen, he was far too used to Vernon�s meaty fists battering his
lean body to truly dread the repetition, but the starvation was not something
he was looking forward to. Also, the new load to his debt�which swelled every
year due to interest despite the number of odd jobs he took on and the wages he
decided to forego in order to pay his uncle back�was a particularly depressing
thought.

His
parents had died when he was but a baby�how
he had never managed to confirm. His father had been the son of a wealthy noble,
but he had been disowned after his father had caught him trysting and planning
to elope with the daughter of a lowly merchant. The girl�Harry�s mother�had
been pregnant at the time, and thoroughly repulsed by the idea of a half-breed
grandchild the noble had driven them from his land. Harry�s parents had been at
a loss: with no money and no prospects they had left Harry in the care of his
grandfather, Lily Potter�s father, and had boarded a ship that would take them
to a new world, promising to return once they were able to support their child.

They
never did, and in form of a letter from some unknown foreign barrister, Harry�s
grandfather was informed of their untimely demise. Heartbreak soon took the old
man to his deathbed when Harry was but three, and at the dawn of his
consciousness Harry had only vague memories of his grandfather�s scratchy
voice, the smell of fresh tobacco that lingered on his clothes, and the
occasional sweet that he handed Harry so that he would be good.

After
that Harry�s life had been filled with the visages of a thin, horsy-looking
woman and her large, scowling husband�his grandfather�s other daughter, who had
been married earlier than Lily to a poor bookkeeper from another town.

Uncle
Vernon and Aunt Petunia had insisted that he was too large a burden to take on,
but being good Christian folk they would still do so�provided that Harry took
responsibility for his parents� debts�incurred when the couple had left and
they had required money to board the ship�as well as the costs of his own
upbringing.

Harry
sighed. Given that, there really was nothing good for him to return to. A part
of him understood that if he returned he would be returning to a lifetime of
slavery at the hands of his relatives, from which there was no escape. When
they passed on, they would leave the bookshop in the hands of Dudley�their bully of a son who
was as intelligent as the number of books he read...(none)�and where would
Harry be then?

But
what could he do with himself otherwise? In terms of physique, he doubted he
would make much of a carpenter or builder, although he had experience in that
line of work. Besides, even if he walked to the next town, who would accept him
when he was covered in mud, with no possessions, and certainly no references?

So
lost was he in the contemplation of his bleak fate that he missed the distinct
clop of horse hooves coming up along the way.

�Stupid
beast, move!�

The
horse let out a shrill whiny as the heel of his expensive boot dug viciously
into its side. As painful as it was, however, the animal kept at its deathly
slow pace, nearly staggering as its limbs shook and its head drooped
dejectedly. Foam had formed on its flanks, thought it was washed over by the
rain�which grew fiercer and more unforgiving in parallel to the rider�s mood.

Eyes
as stormy as the sky regarded the horse coldly, contemplating the satisfaction
he would derive from putting the animal out of its misery. As lightning split
the heavens and thunder rumbled in a growing crescendo that promised a
threat...

...the
rider expelled a frustrated sigh.

Dismounting,
he ignored how the mud on the abandoned dirt path clung to his boots and
splattered against his breeches. Taking the reins, he tugged at the animal
impatiently, pulling it towards the shelter of the tall trees by the road.

Draco
Lucius Malfoy could be a cruel boy, but he certainly wasn�t a stupid one. If he
killed his mount in the midst of his tantrum, he would be faced with a long
journey back to the manor on foot. Even when the rain let up�for it would�he was strictly unwilling to
strain himself by walking a good five miles back to face his father�s
disapproving stare and his mother�s upset tears.

His
disagreement with his most recent tutor had been momentous, to say the least.
In the interest of preparing Draco for college�which his father was adamant he
attend�he had hired the supposed best tutors in England to instill discipline in
his wayward, headstrong son. That hadn�t been well-received�and the five people
Draco had sent running from the manor were testament to that.

Still,
he hadn�t meant to maim the man. He had simply been too caught up in his anger
that he had done it on impulse...not only potentially crippling the qualified,
but excessively loquacious and wheedling man, but revealing his family�s
carefully-guarded heritage to an ordinary person.

Even
if his tutor told others, nobody would seriously believe it, and rumors were
easy to quell if it involved a prominent family like the Malfoys�. Lucius
Malfoy was an earl, his wife the daughter of a duke, and they moved throughout
the most powerful circles in society. It would be quite the slanderous
statement to infer that they were magic-users. Magical in countenance and
bearing, in their grand estates and the power they held, but family of wizards?
Whoever dared spread such �lies� would be dealt with.

It
had been Draco�s safety net�the knowledge that he could wield his powers and
society would be none the wiser and certainly no less helpless to stop him,
regardless of the display. So his father�s anger at Draco�s revelation had
been, in Draco�s view, unnecessarily harsh and hypocritical to the extreme. Had
he not used his magic to deal with the other suitors for Narcissa�s hand? Had
he not used his magic to ensure the ease of his business transactions, the
acquisition of property and the wealth they lived on?

He
had stormed out of the manor mindlessly, setting off the thunderstorm as a
display of his rage�daring his father to stop him, to restrain his power with
his own. The fact that his father had not made him feel childish and churlish,
and even angrier at being made to feel insignificant.

Thinking
of his parents sent a fresh surge of violent anger twisting through him, and
the storm�which had begun to calm�renewed its assault upon the sky and the
land. The horse, upon reaching the shade, collapsed into raised roots of a
thick oak, its flanks still heaving after the furious gallop that Draco had
forced it into an hour or so ago. Giving it an icy glare that was lost upon its
exhausted state, he leaned against one side of the tree and proceeded to brood.

�Fifteen
minutes, horse,� he warned the animal. �And then you�ll get up or I�ll make
sure you never get up again.�

A
soft gasp from nearby alerted him to the presence of another, and Draco groaned
inwardly. Could he have possibly given himself away again?

His
eyes�which had been rooted in the earth throughout the duration of his
sulk�shot up, riveting on a tall, lean figure standing under the trees nearby.
Draco registered a dark mop of tousled hair and the fact that the person was
filthy before he focused on the person�s face, straightening as he considered
the stranger.

�Who
are you?� he demanded, stepping forward.

Despite
being taller, the stranger must have felt the menacing power in Draco�s being,
because he stepped back as Draco approached and the blonde wizard could almost
taste the fear radiating from him.

�E-Erm...�

Draco
stopped, getting exasperated with the stranger�s panicky retreat. Pinning him
with a glare, he took the time to examine him more carefully as the other boy
floundered with words.

The
mud, although detracting from the general cleanliness of his appearance, did
not detract from how striking the stranger was up close. The dark earth stood
out in sharp contrast to his creamy white skin, his lean, hard body a direct contradiction
of his softness of his gently contoured face. Green eyes�bright and round and
framed by a thick carpet of long lashes�peered through slightly skewed, muddy
spectacles.

Without
realizing it, Draco forgot his anger as he stared up into the beautiful face of
the boy before him.

The
storm was gone. Harry felt it pass as quickly as it had come, and he shivered
as he noticed how the boy�s eyes went from the cloudy gray to a fascinating
silver. Like the sky...

Swallowing,
he tried to get himself to calm down and stop hallucinating, probably from
panic. He had seen the cruelty that the boy had dealt upon his steed, and an
instinctive part of him had screamed for him to run when the boy�s malevolent
attention had been focused on him. Additionally, the eerie feel of the boy�s
stare�even now, when he was supposedly calm�was extremely unnerving.

�U-Um...�

�Who
are you?� the boy repeated�and the wealth of difference between the way he
asked it now and the way he had asked earlier unsettled Harry even more.
Earlier, his voice had been menacing and sharp, whereas now it was incredibly
soft...almost dazed.

�N-Nobody,�
Harry responded nervously, fidgeting. What was wrong with him? Why didn�t he simply make a run for it? He�d done a
lot of running before, and he was confident that the boy didn�t run as fast as
him. Besides, in the odd occurrence of being outrun, the boy was also shorter
than him, and slimmer than him�certainly incapable of overpowering him.

So
why the hell was he so afraid?

�
�Nobody�?� the boy�s eyes sharpened and darkened, and Harry felt a fresh surge
of fear as the boy�s voice grew sharp once more. �Give me your name!�

�Why?�
Harry asked, growing more and more alarmed.

The
boy blinked, his sharp, aristocratic features losing their edge as surprise
filled his expression.

�
�Why?�� he repeated, staring at Harry like he was some kind of idiot and
remarkably making Harry feel like he
was.

�W-Well...you
could be a bandit or some kind of...um...� Harry let that statement hang,
deciding it was wise to do so when outrage fired in the boy�s eyes.

�Bandit!
Me?� The boy snorted, shaking his
head so that the silvery blonde locks sent droplets of rain scattering in every
direction. They then proceeded to cling to the boy�s alabaster skin, caressing
the harsh lines of his gorgeous, but arrogant and cold face.

It
was disturbing how Harry seemed to notice that
much detail.

Yet
he managed to miss at the onset that the boy was dressed in exceptionally fine
riding gear�from the snugly-fit black breeches to the silk shirt beneath the
finely-tailored jacket. Ruby pins winked at him from the snowy whiteness of the
shirt, and a ring that was surely onyx glared at him from the boy�s slender
right hand as fiercely as the boy himself was glaring at Harry.

�Sorry,
I-I�m not feeling too well,� Harry said faintly, clutching his chest. His heart
simply refused to slow down in the presence of this boy, and combined with the
earlier events of the day he felt completely drained.

�I
should say so,� the boy concurred, his voice supremely indifferent. �You�re
trespassing on private property, muddy and without so much as a cape. I would
feel very troubled if I were you.�

Harry
shot him a reproachful look, anger taking over his fear as the boy deliberately
rubbed salt in his wounds.

�Thank
you for your concern,� he said acidly. �And I�m sure you�re going to assert
that this is your land?�

�As
a matter of fact,� the boy confirmed.

�You
can�t be over fifteen,� Harry pointed out coolly. �How can this be yours?�

�My
father owns it,� the boy snapped, coloring. �And he has very strict rules when
it comes to trespassers.�

�Does
he now?� Harry taunted. �So you�re going to turn me in then? Going to go running
to Daddy to tell on the big, bad trespasser?�

Suddenly
a sharp pain exploded in his skull and Harry yelped, falling to his knees and
clutching his skull. As quickly as it had come the pain left, and through
tear-blurred eyes Harry looked up, half-expecting to see the boy holding a rock
of some sort.

Instead
he realized that the boy�s fingers were lacing with his own, tugging his hands
away from his head. A throb of something
spread through his chest and his heart renewed its frantic pace as he stared at
the cruel angel�s face close-up.

�You�re
so stupid,� the boy said angrily, and Harry stared at him in confusion, still
reeling from the sudden pain and the boy�s closeness to be angry again. The
boy�s hand was incredibly soft against Harry�s skin, and incredibly warm when
he pulled off his leather glove and laid it over Harry�s forehead. �You
trespass on our land and think you can afford to be insolent when you can
barely even stand. What am I supposed to do with you?�

�Who
said you had to do anything?� Harry asked, slightly stung from his tone. �You
can just leave me here to rot, you know. It�s no use bringing me to your father
or anyone. I can�t pay whatever fine you have. As you so nicely pointed out, I
don�t have anything of value with me.�

The
boy withdrew his hand, his expression icy once more.

�You
have a fever,� he said simply. �Once that stupid horse is better, you�ll get on
and I�ll take you to my father. Then we�ll see if you can�t pay after all.�

�You
nearly killed this poor animal,� the bespectacled stranger murmured, shooting
him a disgusted look as he stroked the horse�s nose gently.

Draco
felt himself color at the young man�s treatment�torn between wanting to hit the
man and wanting to hit the horse. What was the big deal? It was just a stupid
horse. It wasn�t like he didn�t have a stable full of replacements at the
manor. Rolling his eyes and letting out an exasperated breath that helped calm
him down, he brushed past the stranger and swung himself onto his mount in a
practiced motion that indicated years of riding expertise, and perhaps natural
talent.

�I
have to ride behind you?�

The
incredulous query made him turn, leveling the stranger with a cool look
reserved for slugs and the multitude of other things that were beneath him. He
purposefully refrained from replying out loud.

�Yes,
I know that the horse is yours,� the
stranger responded to the statement in Draco�s eyes, still not climbing up to
take his seat. �But I�m certain he�d much rather have me hold the reins than
you.�

�Climb
on,� Draco ordered, gritting his
teeth.

Sighing,
the stranger did as he was told�though with great difficulty on everyone�s
part. The horse protested first�it was still very weary and not refreshed in
the least, and the additional weight was difficult for it to bear. The stranger
himself had a hard time, still wobbly from the fever and some other
inconvenience that made it difficult for him to sit straight. Then he
inconvenienced Draco greatly by actually grabbing onto his thigh for support.

�Careful!� Draco gasped harshly,
unaccustomed to being touched that way.

�Sorry,�
the stranger said raggedly, finally gaining his bearing. His hand released
Draco�s thigh and instead he wrapped both his arms around Draco�s waist. �I
really don�t feel too good.�

Draco
refrained from yelling anymore. The stranger�s heat was scorching him�seeping
into his body from his back and from where he clung to him. His throat
inexplicably tight, he chalked up his own rising temperature to being drenched
earlier on and the effect of the other�s fever.

As
the horse began it�s weary pace down the road, Draco resigned himself to a long
ride in this manner.

With
surprisingly less dislike than he thought normal.

�Thank
you, Dobby, that will be all.�

Lucius
Malfoy dismissed the small, wrinkly creature known to Wizarding kind as a House
Elf, his mind already dissecting what the Elf had reported. It was not his
habit to let his son go unsupervised when Draco was in a foul temper, and he
had sent the House Elf in pursuit of the Malfoy heir as a form of surveillance.

What
the Elf had seen had been very interesting. Not so much the presence of a
trespasser on Malfoy land and the intricacy of his plight, but the uncharacteristic
reaction that his son had towards the boy.

�Is
Draco all right?� his wife whispered from beside him, and Lucius feathered a
kiss over her furrowed brow.

�More
than all right, I think,� Lucius answered, smiling when she looked up at him
questioningly. �He should be here any minute now...�

When
his son barged into his study several minutes later, practically dragging the
tall, lean form of the trespasser with him, Lucius resisted the urge to smile
at what he saw.

Still,
before he went any further, he had to learn more about this stranger.

As
his son was distracted by Narcissa�s tears, Lucius turned his eyes towards the
stranger who was leaning against Draco, and silently cast a spell.

Legilimens...

I know, I know, BORING!!! Sorry, I promise it�ll be
more interesting come next chapter. This is already kinda rushed...I�ve got
lots of stuff to do but I promised to churn out a chapter by today. Anyway,
please review! The more reviews, the quicker the update, heehee! It�ll
definitely be more interesting, I promise. (~.^)
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