A Different Kind of Hero | By : JunjouSlashGirl Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 53263 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 10 |
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the characters. All rights belong to J. K. Rowling. I do not earn any money with this story. |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the characters. All rights belong to J. K. Rowling.
Summary:
After the incident at the graveyard, Harry realised that he was not in the least bit prepared to fight against Voldemort or his Death Eaters. When a curse of the Dark Lord, that was meant for Lucius starts to effect him as well, Harry starts to see many things in a different light and finally finds the bravery to take his faith into his own hands.
Vampire Fiction! Harry/Lucius/Draco Threesome! Harry/Severus father/son- fiction! (maybe pre-mpreg)
A/N:
There will be a rough, semi voluntary mating between an adult and a child, who turns out to be even younger than his friends and family had thought!!! This highly rated lemon will not turn up in the first chapter, but I want to warn all readers first.
Also I want to make clear, that I am clearly against child abuse, but this is a fanfiction a piece of writing and fantasy and nothing more. Further more, the mating couple will be non- human.
This fiction is going to be a threesome, but it takes some time until it gets to that point.
I hope you all have fun :-)
Chapter 1: Two Unwanted Guests
LV/TMR
The room was dark and gloomy in the once beautiful Riddle Manor when the Death Eaters apparated in. Lucius Malfoy bowed his head and kneeled down in front of his Lord with the other Death Eaters. Today would be the day, were they finally got rid of one Harry James Potter. His Lord had everything planned to the finest detail and this was his chance to make his failure from Potter’s second year right at last.
Back then, he had not known how valuable the little notebook that his Lord had given him was, but now he knew. Sure, he was still his Master’s right hand man, but he wanted to try and fix his mistake, and that meant that he would be the one to bring the Potter boy to his master.
The Dark Lord rose and turned to his loyal followers: “This time nothing will go wrong. Our mission is perfectly planned and to prevent any other surprises, I will cast a spell on you all.” Lucius felt his wife shiver next to him, but she was a born Black and did not let it show to anybody else.
“This spell will make sure, that anyone who betrays me today, will pay dearly for it,” Lord Voldemort lifted his wand and muttered a curse, too silent for Lucius to hear, but he had no need for it anyway, he would never betray his Master.
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HP
Harry looked out of the train window, without seeing anything. His thoughts were numb, as was his body. Only seven days ago, he had carried Cedric Diggory’s dead body from the maze, on the day that Voldemort had returned. Cedric had been a friend, not a close one like Ron or Hermione, but a friend none than less and he had not been able to save him.
Even worse, he had been the reason why Cedric had died in the first place. Why hadn't he been selfish for once? Had he just taken the cup alone, the Hufflepuff would still be alive. As always, he had to be a foolish Gryffindor, bringing everybody around him in danger, and this time, he had even killed a fellow student this way. How many would follow? With Voldemort back to full power, Harry didn't want to imagine it.
Even without the death of his fellow student, the encounter at the graveyard would have been a shock. He had finally seen Voldemort eye to eye and realised, that he was not prepared at all. With his current level of knowledge, he stood no chance against any Death Eater, let alone Lord Voldemort. Once more he asked himself, what was Dumbledore thinking? It certainly looked as if he would be the one, who had to kill Voldemort in the end, so why didn't the headmaster prepare him for the battle? Harry was not sure how he should feel about the old wizard anymore. He knew, Dumbledore only did what he thought best for Harry and his other students, but he never asked if Harry thought it best as well. Harry had started to wish, that the headmaster would include him more in his fight against Voldemort, at least, if he really was the one to kill him in the end.
To be honest, he didn't want to fight at all; he didn't feel like a hero. The only reason why he had yet to hide, run away or simply decline Dumbledore’s request, were his friends. He knew Voldemort would not stop killing people, only because he refused to fight him again, but he really didn't know, how long he would be able to stand up against the powerful wizard. The last term had been torture; full of nightmares and hurt, mentally as well as physically.
His scar had hurt nearly every night and the nightmares he suffered from his enemy left him screaming even in his sleep. Neither Ron, nor Hermione had been able to lift his spirits in the last week of school, or even before then and they had finally given up. They had all stayed a bit over a month longer at Hogwarts for the last task of the tournament. That meant, that Harry at least had been able to celebrate his fifteenth birthday with his friends, even though, he had wanted nothing more than to be left alone at that point. They had no classes for the last month of their stay at school. They only spent the first month of their summer holidays at school. Harry had been happy about this little mercy, because he would only have to bear the Dursleys for four weeks this year, maybe even three, if Ron was allowed to fetch him earlier.
But the fact that he had to return to 4 Privet Drive alone was horrible enough. Last summer, they had starved him so thoroughly, that he had not recovered through the entire school year. It was as if his body was unable to gain any weight at all since then. His ribs were clearly visible and he had not grown an inch as well. He had been locked into the cupboard once more, after two years with his own room, he had been locked up again. As shabby as Dudley’s spare room had been, it was much better than the cupboard beneath the stairs.
He had felt so lonely that last summer. He had spent the long and dark days and nights wishing and daydreaming about a person, that would take him into his arms, reassure him, listen to him, understand him, and offer him help and a better home. But that person had never arrived. Truth to be told, how should someone like that come? No one knew about his abusive relatives, or at least, not how bad it really was, not even Ron and Hermione. And no guardian angel would suddenly appear in front of him. That thought was ridiculous. Still, sitting in the Hogwarts Express, on his way back to his awful relatives, the loneliness he had not felt during his fourth year crept up on him again, as did the wish for a saviour who would save the saviour.
Sure, he had his two best friends, but he could not ask them to help him more than they already did. Besides, that would mean that he would have to tell them that his relatives not only starved him and locked him into a closet, but also that they hit him on a regular basis. Not very brutally, only with their hands, but it was painful and humiliating enough.
Now, his two best friends sat silently chatting across from him. They were fairly content with each other and Harry was sure, that they would end up together, as soon as Ron matured a bit more. The Hogwarts Express slowed down and finally came to a halt at Platform Nine and Three Quarters. Harry rose to his feet and took his trunk in one hand, whilst he grabbed Hedwig’s cage with the other. Without waiting for his friends, he shuffled out of the compartment and went towards the next exit.
In that moment he had left the train, several loud cracks echoed in the big hall and over twenty Death Eaters appeared. Chaos erupted on the platform. Students were screaming and running in the direction of the exit, but there too, were Death Eaters, blocking the only way out. The first spells flew and Harry quickly ducked, desperately looking for Ron and Hermione, but could not find them in the panicked crowd. He cursed silently and drew his wand, at least, this way he stood a little chance of leaving Kings Cross alive.
Another loud crack sounded and he saw Voldemort approaching. All memories from the graveyard flooded his mind and he felt his body freeze. His dead parents appeared in front of his inner eye, Voldemort’s taunting voice once more echoed in his ears and he closed his eyes for one moment to get rid of their sad faces and to block out Cedric’s voice, who asked him to bring his body back to his father. It was too much for him, he was not prepared and he would die here, without saving his friends or the Wizarding World. A tall figure, clad in blue with golden stars on his robes, materialized in front of him. Immediately Voldemort and Dumbledore started to fight.
The Dark Lord was distracted, but Harry saw with fear another Death Eater heading for him, his wand raised. Harry didn't have to look under the white mask to recognise the man. His long white-blond hair was indicator enough: Lucius Malfoy. Panicking, he took a step backwards; this man was probably the most cold-hearted and cruellest of Voldemort’s followers.
He had seen him four times in the last years: first, in his Second Year at Flourish and Blotts, where he had smuggled Tom Riddle’s diary into Ginny Weasley’s book bag, and then after his battle against Voldemort’s Memory and the Basilisk; last summer, at the Quidditch World Cup, and then only a few weeks ago, when Voldemort had been resurrected. All times the Malfoy patriarch had been a cruel and arrogant arse, but Harry never doubted his abilities when it came to magic and that made the man so much more frightening.
“Potter!” A voice shouted a few steps away from him and he quickly turned his head to see Snape desperately motioning for him. Harry hesitated just a moment, he had never trusted the Potions Master, but Dumbledore did and he had not many other options right now.
“Quickly, Potter!” Snape snapped again, and praying for his friends to be safe, Harry started to run. Unfortunately Harry was not the only one, who had noticed Snape’s plan to rescue him.
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HP
Harry landed harshly in a pile of limbs. A knee that didn't belong to him was painfully sticking into his abdomen, and something long and heavy had landed on his shoulders. He groaned loudly and tried to get up, but the weight of whatever lay across his back pressed him down.
He heard someone cursing and thought that it was probably his Professor, when a second voice followed. Suddenly panicked once again, he gathered all his strength to push from the ground. The heavy thing slid from his back and he was finally able to stand up, only to freeze immediately. There on the ground, lay not only Snape, who had apparated him away from Voldemort, but also Lucius Malfoy and a big, black snake.
Lucius must have grabbed his or Snape’s robes just a moment before their apparition. How Nagini had managed to attach herself so quickly was beyond Harry. Thinking quickly he pulled his wand from his pocket and bound the Malfoy Lord and the devious snake with a spell, even before Snape was back on his feet.
“Well done, Potter. It seems you have some brains after all in this thick scull of yours,” his teacher snapped and finally got up. Harry ignored him and turned around, to see where they had actually landed and noticed with horror that they were in front of Number 4 Privet Drive.
“Snape, what are we doing here?” He asked. “It is Professor Snape to you, even when we are not at Hogwarts, I will not tolerate your ill-mannered behaviour.” He glared threateningly at him, before adding: “Quickly, take the snake and pull her into your relatives’ pathetic garden. We have to get inside the blood wards.”
Rolling his eyes in annoyance, but not asking further, Harry tried to lift the heavy reptile, but only succeeded to pull her on her tail after himself onto the small patch of grass of his aunt’s precious garden. Really, they had other problems than him not calling Snape by his title. He struggled with Nagini for a moment, but the reptile hissed threateningly, luckily restricted as she was, she could not do much more. Snape had taken Lucius over his shoulder; who was glaring evilly at them, and dumped him carelessly next to Voldemort’s beloved snake. Harry turned his face away from the man, who even bound and helpless succeeded in looking threatening and dignified, giving Harry the feeling he was worth as much as a flubberworm.
“Let's knock and hope that your poor excuse of a family will let us in, at least until we can contact Dumbledore,” Snape ordered and motioned for Harry to go over to the neat house. Turning, Harry noticed that the house was illuminated in green light and with a third wave of horror he looked up into the sky.
“Snape?”
“What have I explained to you not even five minutes ago, Potter? I will not tolerate...” his teacher snapped, but Harry cut him off quickly: “I don't think that my relatives will give us any problems,” he said and pointed at the Dark Mark above their heads.
Harry flinched, when Snape cursed once again and dragged him by his wrist to the front door: “We have to ensure the Blood Wards, pray, that they are not too long dead!” The front door was leaning open slightly and Harry was pushed roughly inside. In the next moment the light in the small hallway light up and his eyes fell on the dead bodies of his uncle, aunt and cousin.
Harry did not know how he should feel about their death. They never had been nice people. In fact, they had been violent and unfair, but nobody deserved death at Voldemort’s hands either. At least, it must have gone quickly, there were no outer signs of pain only shock in their dead eyes.
“Was it the killing curse?” Harry questioned and Snape nodded, still glaring, before crouching down next to them and laying a hand on his uncle’s throat. “We are lucky, they are still warm. That means, they couldn’t have been dead for a very long.” The man stood up and turned to Harry: “I will explain a blood ritual to you that will stop the blood wards around this house from disappearing and after that, I will go and try to contact Dumbledore.”
“Would it not be better, if you do the ritual?” Harry asked, chewing his bottom lip nervously. He had never preformed a ritual and was not sure if he would be powerful enough. On top of that, Hermione had once told him, that you had to be very precise in a ritual and he had never been a very precise person. That was the main reason, why he always failed so greatly at potions.
Snape sneered at him: “As willingly as I would do that, I am not able to. The ritual is a dark one, and only a Parselmouth can perform it.”
Harry’s eyes widened: “There are spells in Parseltongue?”
“Yes, there are, but we have no time for explanations right now. Where is the kitchen?”
Harry pointed irritably to a door on his left and Snape disappeared into the room, only to return after a few seconds with a large kitchen knife.
“Follow me,” the man ordered and went back outside. Sighing, Harry followed quickly. He had the feeling, that this would be a long and stressful night. He found Snape at the small front gate that lead onto the street. He pressed the knife in Harry’s hand and explained: “Now, you cut yourself and after that you have to write with your blood the name of the person you want to keep out above a line, made from your blood as well. Beneath it, you write the name of the person and creature you want to keep in this house... and Potter?”
Harry turned questioning eyes at his Potions Teacher as sign that he was listening attentively. “It is important, that you think their names in Parseltongue for the ritual to work.” Snape explained and pointed at the ground.
Nodding, Harry ground his teeth together and pressed the knife to his left palm. The cut stung, but he ignored the pain and laid the blade down, before kneeling down and starting to write. To his surprise, he was writing in a whole different script; the names of his enemy and his two prisoners.
Snape, who must have noticed Harry’s confused look said: “This is Parselscript, lettering only a Parselmouth possess.”
As he wrote, he could feel his magic pouring into the words and his blood started to shimmer faintly. Finishing the last letter of Nagini’s name, he then stood back up: “So, now Voldemort isn't able to get in here anymore and Lucius and Nagini can't get out?” He asked to be sure, that he had understood Snape’s hasty explanation right.
“Indeed. Voldemort will, again, not be able to find you here and Lucius and Nagini can only leave the house in your company. I will go now, but be careful: Do not use magic under any circumstances. You are still under age and the Ministry will be informed of your doing. It is likely, that the Dark Lord has his spies there and he could find you this way.”
“I promise, I will not do any kind of magic,” Harry agreed and watched Snape bending down and searching for something in Lucius pocket. When he stood up again, he held the man’s wand in his hands: “I will go now and take this with me. You may untie him, he is no threat right now. If he kills you, he will never be able to leave this house and die sooner or later as well.”
The blonde mans eyes narrowed threateningly, but Snape only scoffed, before turning to leave.
Harry watched the man leaving the plot, but when he was on the street he turned around once more: “I will try to be back as soon as possible, but it could take a while. I have to find a way to contact Dumbledore without alerting the Dark Lord.” Harry nodded, still not quite comprehending what had just happened.
Only when Snape had disappeared into the darkness and he turned to his two captives, did he realise the whole extent of his very pathetic situation. How could this have happened? He was stuck with none other than Lucius Malfoy at 4 Privet Drive. The next few days would surely be hell. Hopefully Snape, as much as he hated the man and did not wish to see him at all in his holidays, would not need long to return, but at the moment he doubted that he would be so lucky.
With a sigh he decided to deal with Nagini first: “Hello Nagini. Do you know who I am?” he asked in Parseltongue. The reptile glared and hissed:“You are the Potter boy. My master hates you. He says that you are a filthy Half-blood.” /em>Ignoring the insult, because what else would you expect from Voldemort’s familiar? He explained:
“You're currently bound to me and this house, so you will not be able to leave. I will untie you now, but don't try to kill me; it would be your death as well.” The snake glared fiercely at him, but Harry only cut the ropes that bound her body with the kitchen knife, before turning to Lucius. He really didn't want to bother with the arrogant Pureblood.
“You heard Snape?” he asked shortly and waited for Lucius Malfoy to nod. “Good, then you know that nothing good will come from trying to kill me. This is my house and we will live as I say, I have no problem with starving you otherwise,” Harry threatened, even though he could never starve a person, not even Lucius Malfoy. He knew how bad hunger could feel and no one deserved to be treated that way.
Cutting the ropes around Lucius’ hands and ankles and waited for the taller man to stand up, which he did with more grace than Harry could ever muster. “Let's go inside,” He said, turning back to his dead family's house.
“I will not stay at a muggle house!” Lucius spat and gave the house a nasty look, as if it had offended him personally, before throwing the same look at Harry.
“Sure, if you want to remain outside, it is fine with me. At least, this way I don't have to deal with you,” Harry retorted coldly and stepped inside without giving the Malfoy patriarch another look.
In the hallway he nearly stumbled over Nagini, who sniffed the corpses with interest, her tongue flickering out in what seemed like hunger. “Don't eat them. I will give you something, but they were my family and even though I didn't like them, they do not deserve to end up as your evening meal,” he stopped her quickly and to his surprise the large female reptile stopped immediately.
Sighing, he went into the kitchen; he had to think about where to bury his relatives. He could not call the police, they would ask too many questions and maybe even take him with them and he didn't need that. But he also could not leave them on the floor to rot either, so that meant, that he had to bury them himself.
Opening the refrigerator door, he searched for some meat for Nagini. Luckily it seemed, as if his aunt had planned to make a roast and he took the large piece of raw flesh and threw it over to the snake that had followed him into the kitchen. She gulped it down hungrily and slithered out of the kitchen, leaving Harry alone once again.
Another look into the refrigerator told him, that there was not much left. It was a Sunday and that meant that his aunt had planned to go grocery shopping the next day. After a bit of searching he found some eggs and potatoes and started to fry them. It was not much and he was not sure if Malfoy would spare the meal even a look, but he would not treat his prisoners like Voldemort always did. That would only mean, that Harry was no better than him and he wanted to be.
The cutting of the vegetables calmed him down a bit and he started to think over his immense luck he once more had. What should he do with Lucius? Currently the man was sulking in his aunt’s front garden, but he would surely not stay there forever and he didn't trust him one bit. Lucius was the kind of man, who would kill him in his sleep, even though he would die himself, only to have his revenge on Harry and to accomplish a great service for his master. Why didn't all the Death Eaters realize, that Voldemort only used them? They would never be anything more to the evil wizard than useful puppets, regardless of what they did for him?
That meant that he could not let Lucius alone or out of sight. He would have to keep a close eye on the Death Eater.
Sighing, he retrieved a pan from the cupboard and turned on the stove and continued to think about the matter: Even when he watched Lucius closely, that would not prevent the man from sneaking down in the kitchen and steal a knife, whilst he was sound asleep. Normally an alarm spell would do the job, but he hadn't the option right now. Desperately, he started rummaging in the drawers and finally stopped, when his eyes landed on a small ball of wool. Maybe this would do the trick. He pocketed the wool and checked if the pan was hot enough.
After another minute he dropped the potatoes into the pan and started frying them absentmindedly. Nagini would not make any trouble right now, he was sure of that, after all she had listened to him earlier in the hallway and had stopped to eat his relatives. Furthermore, she really didn't seem very aggressive or murderous towards him.
When the meal was ready, he placed it onto two plates and put it on the small kitchen table, before combing with one hand through his already messy hair and going outside to retrieve Lucius. The man was leaning against the fence, his arms crossed and glaring at everything. Harry could clearly see the distaste for everything muggle written all over his face. Distaste was after all, the one emotion even a Malfoy showed openly. Even then, the man succeeded in looking aristocratic and proud even in his battered Death Eaters robe. His mask lay forgotten on the grass, the moonlight reflected on his pale skin and his hair floated slightly in the soft evening breeze, giving him an unearthly appearance.
“Lucius, dinner is ready,” he announced after a moment of watching the man and crossed his arms over his chest. Lucius turned his sneering face to him and hissed: “I will not eat something that has been cooked the muggle way.”
“Fine, be hungry, I do not care,” Harry replied and added: “You can come in any time you like; I will leave the door open.” Lucius didn't grace him with a retort and he went back inside to eat, before his meal could grow cold.
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LM
Lucius Malfoy was glaring at the small house in front of him, rubbing his sore wrist. Pathetic, he thought, this is the place, where the Golden Boy lives? He could not quite believe it and even less could he believe that he was Potter’s captive right now. How could he have sunken so low? He had wanted to prevent Potter from apparating with Severus, the traitor, but instead had been pulled along. He would make sure that the Dark Lord learned about this deception as soon as he had managed to free himself.
He knew the ritual Severus had made Potter perform. It was from a collection of parchment he and the dark man had found on some mission for their master two years ago. The notes they had found were clearly very old and written in English and Parselscript and Lucius had immediately seen their value. After they had given their Lord the parchments, he had been generous and let them study the spells and rituals as well, at least the few, they could understand. It had been a great honour for Lucius, to sit by his masters’ side and study these ancient spells, which would surely help their cause one day. But currently it seemed as if everything would turn out differently.
When he was free again, he would make sure that nobody ever found out, that he had been stuck at Potter’s house. He was a very powerful wizard, skilled in many arts, such as healing, the wizarding rights, potions, the dark arts, and even its defence. To be held prisoner like this by a mere boy was pathetic.
Sighing, Lucius turned his head up to the clear night sky. He did not know how long he had been standing outside, trying to ignore the muggle surroundings. A Malfoy should never be forced to stay at a place like this; he was a Pureblood after all and the most noble on top of that. The nerves of that boy to drag him along and even threaten him! Unfortunately Potter had all the power to threaten him right now, thanks to his former best friend Severus Snape, without the intelligent wizard, the boy would have stood no chance against him. Without the man’s knowledge, Potter would have never been able to perform this Merlin forsaken ritual. He could have brought this annoying boy to his master, maybe even dead and he would have been highly rewarded, but Potter had once again destroyed everything with his unnaturally huge amount of luck.
But he would get his revenge on Potter and on Severus and it will be painful and torturing. A cold wind penetrated his robes and he shivered slightly. Maybe he should go inside, even though the house was revolting, but he could not stay outside the whole night and getting ill in the end. Merlin knows what methods muggle healers use to cure their patients; he would probably die because of their treatment.
With a last sneer at the driveway he walked up to the unassuming door and found it still open.
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HP
“Why is the meal cold? Is your house elf so incompetent that it even forgets to cast a stasis charm on this miserable food?”
Harry looked up from the television towards the kitchen and rose with a sigh. It seemed, Lucius had finally decided to grace him with his presence. He went into the kitchen to find the man standing at the small table, glaring down at the fried potatoes and eggs.
“This is a muggle house, you will not find a house elf here,” he explained dryly and rolled his eyes in annoyance. Really, did the man know nothing at all about muggles? Sure, Lucius Malfoy was a pureblood, but how could he be so ignorant? After all, muggles lived nearly everywhere.
“And who cooked this meal then? I do not believe that Dumbledore lets his Golden Boy stay each year eight weeks at a house, which does not have the upper most luxury,” Lucius scoffed.
“Yeah, but you will noticed that it's true. You will not find an ounce of magic at this place,” Harry retorted and took the plate from the desk to carry it over to the microwave. When he turned back around, he noticed that Lucius looked slightly paler than normal.
“What are you doing?” the man asked and eyed the microwave sceptically, as if the device might actually jump him or blow up in his face.
“Heating up your meal,” Harry sighed and stopped the little device. When he put the plate down in front of his grumpy house guest, the man’s cold silver eyes grew even colder.
“I will not eat anything that is heated up by this... muggle thing” Lucius glared. Rolling his eyes Harry replied: “There is nothing else, you have to eat it, if you don't want to go to sleep hungry and let me remind you: If you had come to dinner when I had called you, it wouldn't be cold right now.”
The man's glare intensified and Harry was sure, he could freeze things with it, but he didn't back down and hold those cold silver eyes.
“Fork,” Lucius demanded when he noticed, that Harry would not fall to his feet in fear and Harry went over to the top drawer, to retrieve the utensil for him. He watched Lucius giving the fork a nasty look, before the man started eating. His face contorted into a disgusted expression: “Potter, this tastes awful!”
“It would have tasted better two hours ago,” Harry sat down across from him, not knowing what else he should do or how he should behave around the arrogant wizard.
Lucius ate slowly and elegantly, Harry noticed and thought, that Lucius seemed so out of place in this little muggle kitchen. His posture was perfect, the personification of grace and elegance, as if he was dining in a noble restaurant and not eating with an IKEA-fork.
“When you are finished, you have to help me carrying my relatives to the basement. We can't leave them in the hallway like this, someone could see them and call the police and neither you nor I can obliviate a bunch of officers right now,” he announced after a while of watching.
Lucius fixed his cold gaze on him and drawled: “A Malfoy never does physical labour.”
“Then that will change now,” Harry glared back. The man's attitude started to get on his nerves and he felt a headache approaching.
They fell silent once more and Harry was glad when the Malfoy patriarch was finally finished with eating.
“Let's get it over with,” Harry announced and went into the hallway and waited for Lucius Malfoy to arrive.
“There is no way that we can carry this whale of a man down into your basement without a wand and I will surely not strain my back by trying this hopeless task” Lucius said, sneering down at his dead uncle.
“Oh you will,” Harry retorted and crouched down to grab him under his shoulders. When Lucius didn't move and just remained standing he sighed for the hundredth time this evening: “Do I have to threaten you every time I need your help? Let me tell you: my relatives had not taught me much, but they have taught me, how to make someone's life miserable without the use of magic and I will gladly give you a taste of what I mean,” he said, thinking for a moment, that it really would be delightful to lock the Malfoy patriarch up in his old cupboard, but quickly shoved the thought to the side when he realized what he was thinking. He was not Lord Voldemort and he was not Vernon Dursley either.
Sighing for the hundredth time this evening he said: “Look, we are alone in this muggle house and as long as I cannot risk using magic, that means, that I need your help. I can remind you of the fact that I could let you starve every time, but I think it would be much easier, if you would just do what I ask of you.”
“You will pay for this, be sure of it,” Lucius hissed, but bend down to grab Vernon’s feet.
His uncle was even heavier than Harry had imagined. The man must weigh over 300 pounds. Groaning and struggling he came to his feet and turned towards the basement door. Lucius was panting heavily and Harry had only to take one look to see that he really had never done any kind of physical labour. The small distance to the basement door seemed far too long and Harry didn't dare to let his uncle down, because he feared, that he would not get him up once again. He opened the door to the basement with his elbow and they started to carry the heavy body down the stairs.
“I hope it is not far anymore, or otherwise I will drop this... man,” Lucius panted half way down.
“Just the last few steps and we can put him down in the hallway,” Harry panted as heavily at the taller man. As soon as they had reached their destination they laid Vernon’s body down unceremoniously. Harry leaned against the cold stone wall and tried to catch his breath, hopefully Dudley would not be as heavy.
Unfortunately, Dudley seemed to have reached not only his father’s height by only 16 years of age, but also his weight. They struggled once more and in the end, even the ever perfect Malfoy patriarch looked slightly dishevelled. In contrast to the two men, aunt Petunia was light like a feather and Lucius promptly suggested, that Harry could carry her down alone, which he did, because he had enough of the man’s complaining.
When Harry came back into the living room, he saw Lucius sitting on the expensive sofa, with his custom disgusted look on his face once more.
“If you make that face any longer, it might just stay this way, you know?” He commented flopping down into the armchair. He grabbed the remote to turn on the telly and ignored the sneer he received for his comment and started to zap through the channels.
Stopping at a chart show, he leaned back into his chair and closed his eyes to relax for a moment, but Lucius voice pulled him from his peaceful state only moments later:
“Potter, this is horrible! Turn this thing off, before my ears actually bleed and fall off!”
“It's just music. There is nothing else we can do, or do you want to play a game of chess with me?” He snapped without opening his eyes. He waited for an answer, but when none came he relaxed again and slowly drifted away. He was so tired after his horrible day and after carrying the heavy bodies of his late family downstairs. Just a minute, he thought and fell asleep.
°ºooº°°ºooº°°ºooº°°ºooº°°ºooº°
LM
Lucius tried to block out the horrible sounds that came from the black box across from him. This was a nightmare. His personal nightmare. He had always known that he hated muggles, but this was even worse than he could have ever imagined. His eyes wandered from the black box to the creamy white sofa and armchair with golden patterns that probably should look luxurious and expensive, but felt like something that came from the garbage dump. This sofa would never make its way into his Manor, even if someone would give it to him as a present.
The whole house was an imposition. It was small and smelled too strongly of cleaning agents and he had yet to find a sign of taste. The way they lived, with all these strange and loud engines were disturbing and insufferable. It all left him wondering, why Muggleborns or Halfbloods didn't hate muggles themselves, when they had to suffer this life every day.
His eyes wandered further and landed on a fireplace, which looked as if it had never been used. Over a dozen pictures of the fat man, his wife and ugly son stood on top of the fireplace, but none of Potter. He frowned slightly, but decided, that it was none of his concern why there were no pictures of the boy.
Finally his eyes settled on said boy, who had fallen asleep in his armchair. He was quite small for his age, far smaller than his own son and had he not known better, he would have guessed that he was even younger than he really was. His face was haggard, but it had yet to develop the sharp angles of an adult. He sneered inwardly, Voldemort’s methods might be brutal, but at least he never would let a child fight his war. No matter how much of the Death Eaters sons or daughters wanted to take their places next to their parents, they were not allowed to do so until they had reached the age of seventeen.
The thought only made him hate the light side even more. This was one of these points that had been the reason why he had joined the Dark Lord: The light side did not value family and their children as much as they should anymore. In fact, they valued near to nothing of the old wizarding traditions and instead adopted those from the Muggleborns, which had no place in their old and honourable society. Sometimes he asked himself, how a wizard like Albus Dumbledore from an old and much respected Pureblood family could have become the leader and symbol of the muggle- lovers. It was shameful.
Turning back to the black box, he tried to imagine, how the next few days would work out. He could not imagine, how the life if a muggle was, but he had the suspicion that he would know after tomorrow. Hopefully, his master would find a way to save him from this disgusting place, after all, he was his right-hand man, or otherwise he might be tempted to kill Potter after all. True, that would mean that he would die in this house as well, but at least he would have done a great deed for the Dark Lord.
He watched the pictures moving in the black box for a moment. A scandalous clad woman was singing and dancing hideously right now. No woman should leave her home as naked as her. This brought his thoughts to his own wife and son. He hoped that his Lord would not think of him as a traitor, because that would mean that they probably were dead already. He loved his wife in a sisterly way. He could never see the appeal in the female body, but they had grown up together and she had accepted that he would never be more interested in her and was content with it.
A wave of exhaustion overwhelmed him and he rose from the sofa to wake Potter up. It was already late and the day had been rather tiring, especially the end of it. He went over and glanced down at the child in front of him. He really looked like James Potter; Severus had been right about that. Wrinkling his nose at the boys’ messy hair he bent down and shook his shoulder.
°ºooº°°ºooº°°ºooº°°ºooº°°ºooº°
HP
Harry was awoken by the rough shake of his shoulder. He groaned in annoyance and tried to turn around, but something was hindering his movements. “Potter, wake up! I am exhausted; show me my bed for the night!”
His eyes flew open and the events of the evening came crashing down on him. How could he have been so stupid to fall asleep with Lucius Malfoy in the same room and without any safety measure? “I am up,” he grumbled and batted the long fingered hand away. A look at the clock told him, that it was already one in the morning; they really should go to bed. His legs had fallen asleep in his curled up position and he swayed slightly when he stood.
“The bedroom is on the second floor,” he explained and led the way. In the hallway upstairs he stopped, thinking about his next move. He had a plan to ensure his safety during the night, but that meant that they would have to sleep in close proximity. He cringed inwardly, but decided that a bed for himself was not worth the risk of getting killed in his sleep. Turning left he opened the door to his aunt and uncles bedroom and stepped inside. He saw a flicker of shock in Lucius eyes, but it was so quickly gone, that he couldn't be sure that he really had seen it.
“I will change the covers and then we will sleep here, do you want a nightshirt?” he asked and received yet again a disgusted look from his guest. Shrugging, he opened the cupboard and quickly and changed the covers of the mattress, comforters and pillows, before stripping down to his boxers and t-shirt. Then he retrieved the ball of wool from his trousers pocket and bit a, maybe five foot long, piece off of it.
“Stretch out you arm, it doesn't matter which,” he commanded stiffly, but of course, all that Lucius was doing was glaring down at him. It cost all his willpower to hold his cold gaze. The man was so much more powerful and taller than him. In a fight, no matter if magically or physically, he stood no chance to win. Only now did he realize, that the tips of his hair only reached the aristocrat’s elbows, he was only five feet tall after all, whilst the noble man looked more like 6 foot 4. That was a really disturbing feeling, he felt like a small boy who tried to threaten his teacher. How had he stood that look earlier? Had he been insane?
An elegant eyebrow lifted and Lucius did as he was told surprisingly. Harry gulped, the single lifted eyebrow reminded him so strongly of the man’s son, Draco, who was his rival ever since his first year, and yet, the gesture was completely different. Everybody always said that Draco looked just like his father, that even their gestures were the same, but Harry had noticed in these few hours he had spent with the older Malfoy, that they were completely wrong. Every little movement Lucius made, was far more gracious than his son would ever be able to manage. The stern and elegant demeanour came naturally to Lucius, but Harry had always thought that Draco looked as if he had to work for his reputation as an elegant Malfoy heir. Now he knew that he had been right.
Flushing, he grabbed Lucius wrist and tied one end of the string to his wrist, before fixing the other at his own.
“What are you doing, Potter?”
“This way, I will wake up, if you tried to sneak down to the kitchen to fetch a knife to kill me,” Harry answered neutrally and tugged on the cord, to show what he meant.
“I would not be so stupid and kill you in the night, as long as there is a chance that my master will come and find me,” Lucius said smoothly.
“Sure, keep believing that. I will tell you, neither side is concerned for his soldiers,” Harry retorted and went over to the bed. The man really was deluded. But he himself had been deluded as well until just a week ago, so he probably should not hold it against the man. Anything else he would; his violence, his willingness to torture, his prejudices against muggles and muggleborns, but not that. He climbed into bed slowly, so that Lucius could follow without being yanked by his hand. When they both lay under the covers, he turned the light on his nightstand off and turned away from the man.
It was a strange feeling to share a bed for the first time in his life; he had never done that, not even with a lover, because he had yet to have his first girlfriend. At least, Lucius had scooted over to the other end of the bed and they would most likely not touch accidentally. He only hoped that he would not suffer from nightmares this night, because he could not even cast a silencing spell to save his already little pride.
They laid in uncomfortable silence and all the time Lucius laid perfectly still, his breath even. Even with the cord he felt as if he was laying next to a dangerous lion; or in Lucius’ case a poisonous snake, and Harry needed many hours to fall asleep eventually, but that wasn't the best thing to do. As soon as he had drifted off, the pictures started to play in front of his inner eyes. Cedric’s lifeless body was falling to the ground, whilst Voldemort rose from a bubbling Cauldron and his uncle beat him up with his black belt. Subconsciously, he knew, that he was just dreaming and that he was tossing and turning but he could not flee from his nightmare.
°ºooº°°ºooº°°ºooº°°ºooº°°ºooº°
HP
When he awoke, he was drenched in sweat and still trembling. He sat up slowly and needed a moment to recognize the room and the covered figure beside him.
Sighing, he turned to the alarm clock and saw, that it was already 10 AM, they had to get up and shopping. Lucius was still sleeping, at least as far as he could tell, because he had his back still turned towards him and Harry could not see his face, but his breathing was even as ever and so Harry guessed, that he had to wake him. Thinking about how to accomplish that, he laid a hand carefully adown on the man’s shoulder, but before he could say anything the Death Eater turned around.
“Have you slept well?” Harry asked quickly, to prevent an awkward silence, only to regret his question a second later, when the stern face hardened even further:
“I have to tell you, that you are not a pleasant bed companion. You were quite vocal during the night.”
Harry quickly averted his gaze, he knew what that meant: He had at least moaned in his sleep, maybe even screamed or spoken out loud. His pride was now officially gone. If Lucius somehow got free, it would not even take a week, before the Daily Prophet knew about his nightmares and the paper would spread the news all over the country, writing about the boy- who- lives' weak mental state of mind.
“Sorry, about that,” he mumbled and untied the cord on his wrist before climbing out of bed. “I will go shower and after that, we have to go grocery shopping, if we want something to eat,” he added and searched for a towel in the large cupboard. He pulled two out and handed one over to Lucius. “In case you want to clean yourself up after me,” he explained and left the room.
The bathroom was just at the end of the floor. On his way he nearly stumbled over Nagini, who eyed him intensely, before hissing: “Do you have breakfast? The meat you gave to me yesterday was not much and I am hungry.”
Harry blinked stupidly for a moment, before catching up on the question. Eyeing the reptile more closely, he could imagine why she was still hungry. Nagini was huge, at least ten feet long and her body was thick like a small tree. The piece of beef must have been like a bite of chocolate for her. “Sure, I will give you something today, but Lucius and I have to go shopping first, so it can take a while,” he promised and scratched his head in slight embarrassment, he really should be more considerate about his guests. He refused to call Nagini or even Lucius prisoners or captives; he was no Dark Lord and had only bound himself temporarily to these two to save his life.
Nagini nodded and asked: “Are you planning to go under the falling water, you humans use to clean yourself?”
Nodding stupidly, Harry waited for whatever the snake was getting at.
“Can I come with you? The moist atmosphere in a bathroom is good for my skin. It will get dry and start to split open otherwise.”
“Yeah,” Harry allowed baffled, opening the door bathroom door and holding it open, so that the reptile could slither in first. When he stepped in beside her, he noticed that Nagini had curled up under the washbasin. Closing the door, he quickly undressed before stepping into the shower stall, he felt a flush rising up his neck, maybe it was silly, but it was a female after all who was watching him.
As soon as the water washed over his tense body, he forgot that he was not alone in the room. The hot water was soothing and his stressed muscles relaxed slowly but steadily. Sighing contently he grabbed the bottle of shampoo and started to massage it into his hair. It was nice to have a shower without worrying about when his aunt might come up and kick him out off shower, because he supposedly used too much water.
He rinsed off and decided to stay a bit longer under the warm spray, before he would face the day and especially Lucius Malfoy. Shortly, he wondered what the light haired man was doing right now, but dismissed the thought quickly, he would find out when he was finished. Right now he wanted to enjoy this moment of peace.
Ten minutes later he finally stepped out from under the stall and nearly jumped at the sight of Nagini, he had almost forgotten her. She was eyeing him curiously and Harry wanted to squirm under her scrutinizing look, he had no idea why she was eyeing him like this.
“You are still a young one aren't you?” she inquired finally.
“I am fifteen. I will be an adult in two years,” he retorted, feeling a bit offended.
“Then you are still a hatchling,” Nagini hissed.
Harry gaped at her. Was she implying that he was still a child? Sure, he was small and thin for his age, due to the Dursleys abuse and neglect, but he was at least a teenager. “I am no hatchling! I am a teen!” He huffed, now certainly affronted.
“Snakes only know hatchlings and adults. As long as you are not an adult or have mated you are a hatchling. I do not know what a teen is,” Nagini huffed.
“A teen is someone between childhood and adulthood,” he tried to explain.
“I do not know that, but you do not smell like someone who will be an adult soon,” The snake repeated herself.
Giving up on this particular matter, Harry started to dress in fresh clothes:
“Was it good to lay in the bathroom?”
“Yes, thank you. My skin feels better now. My master doesn't allow me often to accompany him,” Nagini thanked him with a curt nod of her heavy head.
Harry had noticed, that she had hissed the word master with a peculiar edge to it, so he asked: “Do you not like him?”
“I have not bound myself to him and he is the reason, why I suffer horrible pains most of the time,” she answered.
“Is he hurting you?” Harry inquired. He started to worry for the snake, she was not evil in the least and he had the feeling that she would rather choose any other master than Voldemort, something any sane creature would do in his opinion.
“He has implanted a piece of his soul inside my body, in order to live forever. It hurts to be close to him and it is worse when he is experiencing especially strong feelings.”
Harry looked down at the reptile in shock. Nagini had to suffer the same headaches he had to suffer so often and she had given him an important piece of information: It was because of a piece of Voldemort’s soul inside her body. Does that mean that he had a piece of him inside his body as well? And further more: could he somehow get rid of it? Would that mean that he had found a way to kill Voldemort? But thinking about that, he really didn't want to become a killer, or even be a hero at all.
Focusing back on the matter at hand he told Nagini: “I suffer the same pains like you do.” he lifted his bangs from his forehead and showed her his scar. Nagini watched for a moment, before pointing with her nose on a spot in the middle of her back.
Harry bent forwards and saw to his horror, a big lightning bolt scar imprinted in her skin. He drew back with a loud gasp. This was the secret of his suffering and his connection to Voldemort. Did Dumbledore know? He could not answer this question, but for the old man’s sake he hoped that he didn't.
“I feel for you, ” he told Nagini with a sad expression and she nodded in acceptance. He finally opened the bathroom door and left the damp room, Nagini slithering out behind him.
°ºooº°°ºooº°°ºooº°°ºooº°°ºooº°
HP
Lucius was not in the bedroom anymore, so Harry went downstairs and found the man sitting on the sofa in the living room. He looked up, when he noticed Harry entering and stood up without a word, his perfect icy Malfoy- mask in place and disappeared upstairs.
Sighing, Harry strode over to the big shelf unit and opened the door to the far left. He knew that his uncle had always kept money in a hidden safe there and they would need it for the shopping. Remembering, that he had to fetch the key, he walked down into the cellar and crouched down beside his dead uncle. Luckily, the coldness of the room had stopped the corpses from starting to smell.
Everything in Harry was reluctant to search the man’s trousers for his keys, but there was no way getting around it. His uncle felt cold, even through the layers of clothing. A shiver ran through Harry’s body and he decided to hurry up. It was unsettling to be so close to Vernon, even though he was dead. When the man had been alive, Harry had always tried to stay as far away from him as he could, in fear of his big fist wanting to hit him. But now the man could do nothing to him anymore.
He finally found the keys in his uncles’ chest pocket. Harry retrieved them and went upstairs quickly. To his surprise he found over 500 pounds in the safe and without any bad feelings he pocketed the money and closed the cupboard again. Feeling thirsty he decided to fetch a glass of water. In the kitchen he could hear loud cursing from above. It sounded, as if Lucius had some difficulties with the muggle shower. For a moment he thought about helping the man, but then decided to let him suffer a bit, he surely deserved that and settled on snickering.
Taking the glass of water with him, he returned to the living room and turned on the TV. There was nothing interesting to watch, but it was better than to stare at the wall and wait for Lucius to finally be ready. Harry had never understood what his cousin and uncle had liked about watching TV so much. It was a boring waste of time and he could think of many other things he normally would prefer doing. Nagini came over to him and laid her heavy head in his lap, eyeing him with expecting eyes.
“Do you want to be pet?” he asked her a bit surprised and when she nodded, he started to softly stroke her scales. It felt entirely different than he would have imagined. Nagini's scales were not rough to the touch, but felt like lukewarm water, not soft in the sense of a fine piece of cloth. It really felt like water. It was a nice and calm feeling and Harry found himself wishing, that the snake would stay with him. She was a nice companion and the only one he knew, who had suffered similar pains to his own.
“How have you ended up as Voldemort’s familiar?” he asked her after a while of content silence.
“As I told you before, I am not his familiar. A magical creature can only bind itself out of its free will to a master and I have never done that. But he had captured me and never lest me out of his sight, so I had no chance of getting away from him, until yesterday,” she hissed.
“If you want, I can try to help you. I have the same goal as you: I want to be free from him as well,” He proposed, but Nagini didn't answer. He supposed that she needed time to think about it. It was never an easy decision to betray Voldemort.
Footsteps sounded and Lucius appeared in the doorway. His face was even more mask-like usual and Harry mused that he was downright pissed off. His long silver-blond hair was still damp and darker than in its dry state, making the man look even paler.
“Do you want a hairdryer?” Harry asked and tried to sound friendly.
“What is a hairdryer?” the Malfoy patriarch asked in a flat voice.
“It is a device, to dry someone’s hair. It works with warm air,” Harry tried to explain.
Lucius wrinkled his nose: “I will not risk my hair by using a muggle device,” the wizard answered.
“Then let's go shopping. Nagini is already hungry and I am as well,” Harry rolled his eyes at the expected answer and stood up. He checked his pockets for the keys and the money before motioning to Lucius to follow him.
Nagini looked as if she wanted to follow him as well, but he shook his head:
“Sorry girl, but you have to wait for us at home. The muggles would only panic, if they saw you. I think even the most wizards and witches would do that.”
The snake looked disappointed but returned to the living room, where she curled up on the armchair, where Harry had previously sat in.
He turned to his guest and eyed his appearance. This wouldn't work. Lucius could not go out like this; he looked too much like a wizard. “Take off your cloak and what are you wearing under this Death Eater-jacket?” Harry commanded and earned himself an offended glare.
“What do you want Potter? I will not undress myself in front of you.”
Harry rolled his eyes: “Don't worry; I would not want you to see you undressed either.”
This statement seemed to offend the Malfoy patriarch even further: “I can assure you, my body is a pleasant sight, in contrast to the appearance of others.” His silver eyes scanned Harry’s far too small and scrawny body and he had to fight an embarrassed flush.
“I just want to know, what you are wearing underneath. You can not accompany me like this. Everything about you screams wizard,” Harry retorted.
Lucius lifted one of his elegant eyebrows: “A wizard should not be forced to hide what he is. We are superior to muggles.”
Harry narrowed his eyes: “Spare me your sick beliefs about Blood Purity. I won't hear them. It doesn't matter anyway right now. We could get problems with the ministry and I won't have that, so just do as I told you.”
“No ministry official would dare to arrest a Malfoy,” Lucius retorted.
Harry sighed not believing, how thick-headed a man could be: “Do I have to threaten you again?”
“You have bad manners, Potter, but I have never expected anything else,” Lucius sneered, but finally unclasped his cloak.
Lucius was, to Harry’s relief, wearing a crisp white button down shirt underneath his death eater jacket. Only the black silk ribbon he used instead of a muggle tie still looked a bit odd, but Harry guessed, that the muggles would only think that Lucius was an eccentric. “That looks better,”
“A Malfoy always looks perfect and up to the highest standards,” Lucius drawled, revulsion shining in his cold eyes.
“Yeah, I know, your son has told me often enough,” Harry winked at him and started to lead the way out of the house and in the direction to the pavement. When he had reached the little fence, which separated the Dursleys garden from the street, Lucius stopped him:
“Potter, what are you doing?”
“Going to the grocery store,” he answered a bit bewildered.
“You do not honestly intend to travel there by foot.” Lucius drawled.
“Of course I do. We can’t apparate there and I am still too young to drive a car and we can’t use a broom, either,” he retorted.
“It is undignified for a Malfoy to go anywhere by foot. It should be undignified for every proud wizard, but I imagine, that we cannot count you to this group,” the man sneered.
Harry sneered back. “I am so sorry Lord Malfoy, that I am not up to your standards, but do you know what? It is your own fault that you are currently stuck with me, you shouldn't have tried to stop me and Professor Snape,” he snapped and started to walk at a quicker pace. After a few steps he could feel the blood ritual starting to work, pulling Lucius after him. Harry could hear an angry growl, but shortly after, the man was by his side, a murderous expression on his aristocratic face.
Harry noticed that they had drawn a bit of attention. The neighbours were looking out of their windows, or even stood openly in their doorways or gardens and watched them. They had probably tried to hear their argument and Harry could not stop thinking about what his aunt would have said if she was still alive. She probably would have fainted or had a nervous breakdown from fear that the neighbours could find out that they were housing freaks right now. In a way, her biggest nightmare had just come true. Somehow, that filled him with a childish sense of joy and he started to snicker.
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