The History of the World | By : slayrette2329 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 835 -:- 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. |
Hey Everybody! Thank you for the reviews I really appreciate
it. This story will be re-writing the canon of HP so obviously it is AU. The
rating is for much later chapters as nothing will be happening until the boys
grow up. Also this chapter involves slight neglect but nothing that will
squick.
As always I have no beta- feel free to make fun of my
grammatical errors, I know I will.
Kim
Chapter 1 – The Years
Before Wizards
The darkness engulfed the small area that the boy lived in.
All he could see was what he perceived as his world. Sawdust started to rain
down on his head and he knew that his whale of an uncle was coming down the
stairs over his head. Like every morning, Harry Potter prayed to whatever deity
that his uncle wouldn’t remember he was alive, but as that day was his cousin’s
birthday he wouldn’t have his miracle.
Vernon Dursley was in a bad mood. His son was turning 9 that
day and yet he wanted more than what his parents had already gotten him. Vernon’s nephew had to be the cause of Dudley’s
bad mood. The small boy was a freaky burden that should have been left to die
when he had been left on the doorstep so many years ago. Vernon could hear the boy wheezing from under
the stairs. Harry was under strict orders to always stay silent however the
freak couldn’t even do that.
Harry started to breathe hard from the sawdust in his
cupboard and he knew his day had gone from bad to worse. His uncle’s heavy
footsteps stopped in front of the cupboard. Harry’s drew in a breath and held
it to see if Vernon would punish him for some
imaginary offense or continue on to the kitchen for Dudley’s
birthday breakfast.
“BOY, I thought I told you to stay quiet! You will not ruin Dudley’s day with your freakiness.” Vernon didn’t wait for an answer from his
nephew and threw open the door to the cupboard. He grabbed his nephew’s unruly
raven hair and dragged the boy out of the front door of Number 4 Privet Drive.
“You will go to Mrs. Figg’s house and stay there until
tomorrow. There is no way that you will ruin this day anymore.”
“I don’t understand...”
“Boy, did I say you could speak? Go now and maybe I will
forget all of your transgressions today.”
Harry left Privet Drive
and started to walk towards Magnolia Crescent
where Arabella Figg lived. The woman lived alone with many cats bringing to
mind the cliché of the cat lady if you knew of it. The walk that would have
taken a normal eight year old a few minutes took Harry much longer due to his
fatigue and malnutrition. Even though, his small fist did eventually connect
with the old woman’s door. After a beat, a sliver of light broke through the
edge of the door and a withered arm grabbed the small boy and pulled him
inside.
“What are you doing out there, Harry? Don’t you know what
could happen to you?”
Harry was silent and dropped his head to avoid the
disappointed look in the woman’s eyes. She realized what had happened to Harry
and quickly moved to embrace the child.
“I am so sorry child. I didn’t mean it. What have those
horrible Muggles done to you?”
Harry had no idea what the woman was talking about but he
knew better than to ask. After the last seven years with the Dursley’s he had
finally learned no to speak. Asking questions always led to a punishment. The
silence that stretched between the two was almost deafening and finally
Arabella decided to try another tactic.
“Harry, I am so sorry that the Dursleys
did this to you. You are allowed to speak. I have a lot to tell you so you will
win the war.”
“What war? And what is a muggle?”
“Oh Harry, you have so much to learn. Do you know how your
parents died?”
“A car accident. I was the only
survivor.”
“Harry, I think you should sit down before I continue. Would
you like some tea or a biscuit?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why don’t you know?”
“I’ve never had tea or biscuits.”
With that confession, Arabella started to fawn over the
underfed child. She deposited him on the couch and started to fix all of the tea
and biscuits that she had in the house. Once the woman returned she piled more
food than Harry had ever seen in front of him. She looked at him expectantly
before he tentatively grabbed a biscuit and looked at it like it would bite
him. Mrs. Figg had a pleased expression on her face and started to impart the
story of the wizarding world onto the boy. After a few hours, Harry’s head was
filled to the brim with new knowledge that Vernon Dursley would never believe.
Harry fell into a fitful sleep with dreams of broomsticks
and dragons. He could practically feel the wind in his hair and the heat from
the fire erupting from the large dragon chasing him. Once he felt the pain of
the dragon’s claws in his side, he cried out and Arabella rushed to wake him from
the nightmare that was plaguing him.
“Harry! Are you alright? You were having a nightmare.”
“Don’t worry Mrs. Figg. I just need to catch my breath.”
”Do you want to talk about it dear?”
“No I’m fine now. I will see you in the morning.”
Arabella retired back to her room. Harry sat up and thought
about his dream. It had seemed so real and yet he had never seen a broomstick
or a dragon before so how would he know what they look like? After pondering
the mystery that was his life, Harry fell back to sleep and saw another vision.
He was standing in an office surrounded by pictures that
moved. Behind the desk was an ancient man with a beard that went down to the
ground. In front of the desk was a pale man with greasy black hair. He could
hear their conversation and only started to pay attention when he heard his
name.
“Harry Potter is an attention seeker. He is no better than
his father or his mangy friends.”
“Severus, I know you dislike Mr. Potter but you must train
the boy. If he is our weapon, he must be able to defeat Voldemort.”
“You know I will be expected to deliver him to the Dark Lord
if I have him in such close quarters.”
“Of course, but then we can end the war that much quicker.”
“What are your plans for Mr. Potter once he achieves his
destiny?”
“There are many accidents that can happen on a Quidditch
pitch.”
Harry tried to cry out during the exchange that he was a
real person not just a weapon, but he was only an observer and could only
commit the words to memory.
Harry woke up in a cold sweat with Arabella hovering over
him. She was holding her breath waiting for him to blink away the last recesses
of sleep to bring the world into focus. Harry slowly sat up and started to sob.
The old woman above him hugged the child to her breast and tried to calm him
down.
“What did you see dear?”
“I was in this room with two men. One was very old with a
beard and the other one was named Severus. They were talking about using me and
killing me.”
Harry started to cry even more than he already was. Arabella
started to rub the boy’s back and make soothing sounds.
“Don’t worry dear. That is why I am here so they can’t do
that to you. You will be your own man Harry Potter.”
After his cries subsided, Arabella sent Harry back to the
Dursley’s home with strict orders to keep his eyes out for anything suspicious.
She would talk to the Dursleys about having Harry
come over every weekend to help with some chores around the house.
Vernon
was eager to get rid of his nephew for a few days each week, there would be less
of that freakiness. If the strange lady with the cats wants to see him, then
let her. Harry went to Magnolia
Crescent every Saturday and was taught about his
world.
Today’s lesson was about pureblood family politics. Arabella
was only a squib and didn’t associate with purebloods but had been taught about
all of the oldest family lines as a girl. She wanted to make sure that Harry
knew all about whom he needed to associate with in order to have affluence in
the world. His fame wouldn’t get him through everything; he would need to be a
politician.
“Now Harry, there are many pureblood families that date back
through the centuries. Many of these families have ties to You-Know-Who, but
most have children that are your age that you will be able to win over.”
“Why would I need to win them over? Don’t they know that
Voldemort is evil?”
“Purebloods are funny, Harry. They think that witches and
wizards are being weakened by not keeping it within the purebloods. They don’t
realize that if they did that, everyone would be inbred.”
Arabella continued to tell Harry about the aristocratic purebloods.
There was one family in particular that she mentioned, The Malfoys.
There was another pureblood family that she warned Harry about.
“The Weasleys, Harry. You will
never be able to miss them. There are seven children and all of them have
bright red hair. They are poorer than most purebloods and are Gryffindors to
the heart. Your headmaster will try to manipulate you through the child that is
your age.”
Harry was overwhelmed. He was trying to believe all of these
things that he had no proof of and yet it felt right. In his most recent
dreams, he kept seeing two boys fighting one with red hair and one with
white-blonde hair. The one with red hair, Ron, made him very angry as if he had
no right to be there. The other, Draco, made Harry feel safe. He knew that this
boy was the heir of the Malfoy line and Harry would need to befriend him.
The lessons continued with Arabella Figg until Harry
received his Hogwarts letter. After 2 years, Harry knew much of what he needed
to. Arabella warned him to hide his knowledge as Albus Dumbledore the
headmaster of Hogwarts wanted to mold Harry into the perfect weapon, and
Dumbledore could only do that through controlling what Harry knew and who he
befriended.
Hagrid, the half-giant, picked Harry up from the sea-side
shack on his eleventh birthday. Harry was so ecstatic that he almost forgot to
act like he knew nothing that Hagrid explained to him. Of course, these were
all topics that Mrs. Figg had covered a few years earlier. In the end, Harry
was so preoccupied with eating his cake that Hagrid’s
comments were unheard.
The next day, Harry was in Madame Malkin’s
getting fitted for his school robes when a familiar face stepped onto the stool
next to him. The boy looked over and smiled. They exchanged pleasantries and stood
in silence. After a beat, Harry looked to the boy next to him, amazed that he
had dreams about him.
“Your name is Draco Malfoy, is it not?”
“Yes of course it is. I don’t think we have been introduced.”
“I know. My name is Harry Potter.”
“The Harry Potter?”
“Yes, now I think that we would make beneficial friends. You
know the way of the world and I am the most famous one in it.”
“I am listening…”
“Unfortunately, due to some meddling, we will not be able to
openly be friends. I however don’t think anyone should dictate my life. I want
to know you; I want to be a Slytherin, too bad it can’t happen.”
“What do you mean, Harry?”
“Let’s just say your father’s master will one day return and
I am the only one who can stop him.”
“Oh”
“Draco, we need to go. Owl me before we go to school.”
“Of course I will.”
Harry stepped off the stool and walked towards the door of
the shop. He looked back at Draco and winked. Draco was confused. Harry was
very sure of himself and very much unlike the description he had heard his
entire life. Once Draco returned to the manor, he would ponder his new friend
and send an owl.
TBC
Chapter 2: Year 1
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