MINE - tas.doc

http://www.thesilversnitch.net/tss2/viewstory.php?sid=1479&chapter=1

Mine by tas

Summary: Harry comes into a long forgotten inheritance on his seventeenth birthday. He is no longer human, but a creature that is quite rare and beautiful.....a creature that is strong, powerful, and sexual in nature....a Vanteera.
 

Mine
Author: tas
Harry/Severus
Creature (Vanteerian)

Chapter One

It was quiet in the large, circular room, the faint sounds of the bits and bobs moving about magically on their own, or the past Headmasters in their portraits snoring softly as they slept, the only sounds to be heard. The late afternoon sun could be seen from the ceiling high windows on the second level of the room, the large telescope idle, waiting for the current Headmaster to gaze upon the constellation of stars. Fawkes, the Headmasters Phoenix, sits on his perch, the occasional melodic trill coming from him as he watched the two wizards sitting close together, a chessboard between them.

“You’ve gotten better at the game Harry,” Albus Dumbledore said, grinning to the young wizard across from him, who just took one of his knights.

“Ron’s been teaching me some different strategic moves of the game,” Harry smiled, taking a few smarties from the bowl at the side of the board, the present treat that seems to satisfy the Headmaster’s sweet tooth. Loads better than those blasted lemon drops he used to always push on people.

“Are you all ready to leave tomorrow Harry?” Albus asked.

“All packed. Are you sure I can’t stay here or at Grimmauld Place, instead of the Dursleys?” Harry hopefully asked.

“Although I would love to have you here, to have our afternoons together, you need to stay at your relatives for a short while, because of the blood protection from your aunt. It is for your own safety as well as theirs that you stay there for the few weeks.”

Harry sighed heavily, resigned to his fate. “I can’t believe I have only one more year left at Hogwarts,” he said.

“It has been an eventful time for you here, hasn’t it?” Albus smiled. “And not all good I’m afraid.”

“No . . . it hasn’t,” Harry replied, giving a sad smile in remembrance of Sirius, his godfather, who he didn’t get a chance to know; or Cedric Diggory who had died because he was portkeyed to Voldemort with him during the Tri-Wizard tournament in his fourth year. Wrong place at the wrong time.

“You’re a stronger person because of those tribulations you went through Harry,” Albus said, then gave a small chuckle when Harry dramatically rolled his eyes in response. “If there was any way I could have made things easier for you, I would have Harry.”

“It didn’t help that danger always seem to find me,” Harry grinned. “Any training or reading you would like me to do over the summer?”

“There are a few books on wandless magic, as well as shielding charms, that have already been added to your trunk. As for using magic . . . with your wand . . . the Ministry refused my request that you be able to use it.”

“You did say magic with a wand, right?” Harry smirked.

“Yes, wandless magic isn’t detected as easily by the Ministry.”

“What about Dobby in my second year, or the time I blew up my aunt like a balloon in third year? The Ministry knew about those things happening. I almost was charged with underage wizardry in fifth year when I used the Patronus spell.”

“Yes, they detected magic . . . accidental magic. Accidental magic tends to be forgiven more through the Ministry. Furthermore, the Ministry is a bit more lenient with you since Fudge found out that Voldemort is actually alive. He knows that you are being trained to defeat him,” Albus said.

“Does he know of the prophecy?”

“He knows you are part of the prophecy, as does Voldemort, but does not know you are the only one able defeat him.”

Just then a pop was heard in the room, and a house elf with big ears, big eyes, and a motley outfit of a Chudley Cannon T-shirt, a plaid kilt, and mismatched striped socks, appeared at their side carrying a tray. “Masters Harry Potter Sir, and Headmaster Sir, I’s have your afternoon treat and tea,” Dobby said, smiling at the two of them.

“Thank you Dobby,” Albus smiled. “Would you like to join us in eating this fine treacle tart?”

“You are too kind Headmaster Sir, to invite Dobby to sit with two great wizards like yourselves,” Dobby said, twisting the hem of his T-shirt in his long fingered hands.

Harry used his wand and moved another chair over to them. “I won’t be able to eat all this myself Dobby,” he grinned.

“Buts that is your favorites Harry Potter Sir,” Dobby said, climbing onto the chair.

“Yes, it is, but I would like you to share some with us,” Harry said. “I won’t see you all summer.”

“That is a lovely shirt you’re wearing there, Dobby,” Albus said, his eyes twinkling madly.

“Mister Weasleys gaves it to me. He said it didn’t fit him anymore,” Dobby grinned, smoothing his hands over the front of the shirt. “Is was okay for Misters Weasleys to give Dobby his shirt?”

“Of course it is Dobby,” Harry replied. “You are a free elf. If you are given clothes, there is no harm in that. Besides, Ron was meaning to give that to you for ages.”

“Misters Weasleys and of course Mister Potters are great wizards,” Dobby smiled, placing their treat on individual plates.

Harry took a bite, looking forward to that first sweet taste. He began to slowly chew, the taste unpleasant to him. “Is something wrong Harry?” Albus asked, seeing Harry struggling to swallow what he put in his mouth.

Harry shook his head, and took a swallow of his pumpkin juice. “It just tastes different,” he replied, grimacing. “Was anything different put in it Dobby?”

“No, same as always. Is dessert making Harry Potter sick?” Dobby worriedly asked.

Harry grabbed onto Dobby’s hand before he could get up to punish himself. “I’m sure it is fine Dobby,” he reassured him. “A lot of things have been tasting rather odd to me lately.”

“For how long?” Albus asked, spooning more of the treat into his mouth.

“Not long . . . couple of days, maybe,” Harry shrugged. “I’ve been feeling down lately. Probably from all the extra training lately.”

“Just to be sure, make sure to visit with Madame Pomfrey when you leave here, to check for any potions or hexes that may have been given to you,” Albus said, looking over his half-moon spectacles at Harry.

Harry nodded his head, then looked down at the chessboard. He smiled to himself, then moved his queen. “Checkmate,” he proudly said. “I can’t believe I finally beat you Albus.”

“So you have Harry. Well done,” Albus grinned.

“Wait a minute! You let me win,” Harry said seeing the mischievous look on Albus’s face.

“Did I Harry?” Albus replied, waving his hand over the board to reset it for another time. “Now, I believe your friends are waiting for you in the Room of Requirement for a little meeting.”

“But, how did . . . ” Harry began.

“Can’t tell you all my secret’s Harry,” Albus twinkled, then stood up. “Make sure to see Madame Pomfrey before you go, and owl us if you have any concerns when you are at your relatives.”

“You’re scary sometimes. You know that?” Harry laughed, then hugged Albus. “Maybe next time I’ll actually beat you . . . without you giving me the game.”


Harry shook his head, smiling to himself as he made his way down to the infirmary. The Headmaster and himself have gotten to be quite close over the past year, where they were able to talk about most things. He never mentioned how his relatives actually treat him though. He couldn’t stand the look of pity he would see in other peoples eyes if they were to find out. When he entered the infirmary, Madame Pomfrey didn’t seem surprised to see him. Albus must have flooed her in warning. She immediately scanned for any wrong doing against him, but was unable to find anything. She told him not to hesitate to come back if his symptoms worsened, before sending him off.


When he entered the Room of Requirement, he was waved over by Draco Malfoy. It was still surprising to him that Lucius and Draco were spies, alongside Severus Snape, for the light. What was even more surprising, is that once Draco and himself cleared the air between them, they became quite close. With Ron and Hermione in their own relationships, the Golden Trio were not as close as they once were. Ron was often seen snogging with Lavender Brown from Gryffindor, and Hermione and Blaise Zabini from Slytherin, were often seen holding hands with their noses in the thick magical tombs in the restricted section of the library. Although there may have been a bit of an attraction between Draco and Harry at the beginning, it never became of anything. For both of them realized they were better off as friends, and very good friends. Harry found he was able to talk to Draco a lot easier than Ron or Hermione, to talk of his muggle upbringing, or his dreams and wishes for the future.

Draco was quite a bit different in the company of the defense group that Harry and Hermione began a few years ago, which he joined midway through sixth year, along with Blaise, Gregory Goyle, Theodore Nott, and Pansy Parkinson from Slytherin. They still had to appear like Death Eater wannabes to gain information from the Serpents lair, but had toned down their spitefulness. Of course, with Draco, it helped that he was secretly seeing the two notorious pranksters of their time . . ... Fred and George Weasley. That triad coupling surprised many, but when together you could see how they all complimented each other.

“Hey Harry, you’re zoning again,” Draco grinned, pulling on Harry’s hand to get his attention.

“Sorry ‘bout that Dray,” Harry said, returning the grin. “What are you three up to now?” He asked, looking at Fred and George suspiciously.

“Nothing,” George smirked, putting his arms around Draco, pulling him back to lean against his chest.

“We were just,” George began.

“Talking about our new line,” Fred added.

“Of adult sex aids that they’re adding to the shop,” Draco finished.

“You realize you’re talking in sync with them right?” Harry laughed, looking at Draco’s flushed face.

“Well, they’re rubbing off on me,” Draco smirked.

“I’d like to rub off on you,” Fred suggestively said, not noticing Harry’s face flush pink.

“Hmm,” Draco hummed, pulling Fred closer so he was sandwiched between the two redheads. “Sounds promising,” he huskily added, as George started to nibble onto the side of his neck, and Fred leaned in to claim his lips in a heated kiss.

Harry stood and watched, gobsmacked, as the trio were making good use of their mouths and hands. He was embarrassed to witness it, but couldn’t help but not watch. He never felt that certain connection that many of his friends had with their girlfriends or boyfriends. He always felt too old for his years, to have anything in common with his peers. He has known for a few years that he was attracted to the same sex, but never pursued anyone. Too busy, or too afraid to get close to anyone. His eyes usually strayed to the older men, like Remus Lupin, for his kind but animalistic ways; Oliver Wood for his determination . . . not to mention looking quite good in his quidditch uniform; and Lucius Malfoy with his gorgeous blonde hair and a body that rivaled the sons. Most notably, there was Severus Snape that took most of his notice. Over the past year, the two of them spent quite a bit of time together, getting to know one another. With the Headmaster’s insistence, Severus had started the occlumency lessons again, as well as some dark arts training, that Lucius Malfoy assisted him with. During that training, Harry a hard time concentrating, as the elder wizards would often take off their outer robes, leaving them in form fitting trousers and open necked shirts. He quickly learned to pay attention to the lessons, instead of the two wizards, when he was hexed for not paying attention at the beginning of the first lesson.

“Harry,” a voice quietly said by his ear, from behind him. “You okay?”

Harry turned to face one of his favorite professors, Remus Lupin, who came back to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts that year. “Yeah, I’m okay. You?” He asked in a choked voice.

“I’m good. You sure you’re okay, because you look all flushed and hot,” Remus said grinning knowingly.

“You see more and more of that. I guess I feel kind of jealous,” Harry shrugged, walking to the punch bowl to ladle some punch into his cup.

“Isn’t there anyone you have your heart set on?”

“Not really,” Harry replied, turning his face away from Remus. “There aren’t too many people that would want, just me. I’ve had offers, but they wanted the-boy-who-lived, and all the bloody fame that goes with it. No one would want to get to know the person behind all that.”

“You’d be surprised Harry,” Remus said. “You have a lot of friends . . . true friends that like you for you.”

“But not enough to risk their lives getting close to me, or to snog me senseless,” Harry sighed, taking a sip of his drink. He wrinkled his nose in distaste, then put his cup down. “I’ll see you later Remus,” he said, before leaving the room to go to his bed in the dorm.

Remus picked up Harry’s cup and took a small sip, not noticing anything out of the ordinary. The usual punch spiked with a bit of muggle rum. “Something wrong wolf?” Lucius asked from beside him.

“Have you noticed anything different about Harry lately?” Remus asked.

“Here and there. Magically, he’s showing an aptitude in spell casting, his powers are growing. As for he himself, he seems more withdrawn, and he barely eats during meals,” Lucius replied.

“Something doesn’t feel right about Harry. I’ve sensed a different smell about him. He’s still Harry, but there’s just something off about him,” Remus said.

“He goes to those muggles tomorrow, doesn’t he?” Lucius asked.

“Yes. I’ve never thought that was a good idea. It’s necessary for his protection from Voldemort, but what about the protection from his relatives? He always comes back more withdrawn, and the few times I’ve been here when he returns, I’ve noticed he walks carefully and I can smell blood.”

“Have you ever asked him about it?”

“Yes, but he always insists he is fine. When I try to get the truth from him, he brushes me off. I’ve wanted to check up on him during the summers, but I’ve always been off on assignments for the Order.”

“Do you have an assignment this summer?” Lucius asked.

“Yes, I’m going to a few werewolf colonies to try to waver them away from the dark side. Severus’s wolfsbane potion will be helping me with that.”

“When are you due back?” Lucius asked.

“Sometime around mid-August,” Remus replied.

“I’ll miss you,” Lucius whispered by Remus’s ear. “How long do you need to stay here?” He asked, licking the shell of the other’s ear.

“Mmm . . . until midnight,” Remus sighed, leaning into his lovers touch.

“Do you think your students would miss you . . . say, for a half hour?” Lucius asked, as he slipped his hand into Remus’s robe, to press against the growing hardness there.

“Gods, Luc,” Remus quietly moaned, pushing forward into Lucius’s hand. He let the sweet torture continue for another minute or two, their bodies facing away from the partying students. He reluctantly pulled the blonde’s hand away and took a step back. “Five minutes, in my rooms,” he huskily said, before walking away.

After Remus told the Head Boy from Hufflepuff that he would be back, he went to his rooms to find that Lucius was there, naked and waiting for him. He pulled him to his feet from the couch and savagely took his mouth in a passionate kiss, his hands eagerly roaming over the familiar pale body. His mouth left the moaning lips to nip and lick his way down Lucius’s body. While he was marking his way further down, Lucius used wandless magic to bare Remus’s body.

Lucius cried out and threw his head back, as Remus engulfed his cock into his mouth, his nose nuzzling the blonde pubic hair. His hands went into Remus’s hair, as he thrust in and out of the wet heat. He felt Remus’s tongue slide up and down his length, swirling around the head when he pulled back. He muttered a lubricating and preparation spell, then reached behind him to plunge a finger deep into himself, over and over again.

Remus began to suck faster, and harder on Lucius’s cock, gliding his hand up the inside of the other’s thigh. He moaned around the length when he slipped one of his fingers into Lucius, alongside the blondes’. He felt Lucius’ body start to quiver before his throat was working on swallowing all of what Lucius gave him. His mouth left the softening cock, as he looked up at Lucius’ flushed face, before pulling him down onto the floor; turning him around in front of him. He knelt behind him and guided his rock-hard cock to the lubricated hole. He moaned as he slipped the head in, then slammed in fast and hard.

“Fuck! Yesss . . . more,” Lucius cried out, leaning down on his elbows, pushing back against the forceful thrusts.

“So tight,” Remus growled, gripping the blondes’ hips as he pistoned his hips forward. “Touch yourself Luc. I want to feel you grip my cock tight inside of you.”

“Mmm . . . gods . . . feels . . . so . . . fucking . . . good,” Lucius panted, stroking his cock in time with the maddening thrusts inside of him from behind.

Remus pulled Lucius’s upper body up, his arms braced across his chest, his fingers pinching the nipples. Lucius leaned his head back on Remus’s shoulder, his back arched, as he continued to push back against Remus’s frenzied thrusts. “Now . . . Luc. Cum for me now,” he hoarsely moaned by his lover’s ear.

Lucius pushed back hard onto Remus, his prostate hit again and again. His hand gripped Remus’s forearm as he cried out his lover’s name, his release leaving him breathless.

Remus pulled Lucius’s hips down, grinding up into him as he erupted deep inside. He wrapped his arms around Lucius’s waist and chest, holding him close, as they tried to steady their erratic breathing. He kissed the side of Lucius’s sweating neck. “I’ll miss you too, Luc,” he softly said by his ear.



 

Chapter Two

After a frenzied, last minute check of their dorms for any missing belongings, the students all gathered in the Thestral drawn carriages to take them to the Hogwarts Express for their trip home for the summer.

Harry was thankful, after an hour of excitable chatter around him, that Hermione, Blaise, Ron, Lavender, Ginny, and Neville left the compartment. He was so tried, even after going to bed early the night before. He laid down along the bench, conjuring a pillow from his robes. He was soon asleep from the gentle rocking of the train.

Draco quietly came into the compartment, after finding out from Hermione that Harry was by himself. He kneeled down and reached out to gently brush the raven hair from Harry’s eyes, his knuckles touching the fevered skin of his forehead. He gently touched the side of Harry’s face, then his neck, feeling the same heated skin. “Harry,” he softly said, giving Harry’s shoulder a slight shake.

Harry blearily opened his eyes, looking around the compartment, then at Draco who was still kneeling before him at his side. “Hey Draco. We home already?” He tiredly asked.

“No. You’ve only been asleep for about an hour. At least that’s when Hermione said she left you,” Draco replied, sitting beside Harry when the other sat up. “How long haven’t you been feeling well?”

“I don’t feel sick or anything, just tired. I went to Pomfrey yesterday and she said she couldn’t find anything wrong with me. Maybe I’m catching a wizarding flu bug or something.”

“You wouldn’t tell me if something was seriously wrong anyway, would you?”

“You know I tell you more than most. Maybe I’m just burnt out from all the extra training,” Harry said.

Draco looked worriedly at the dark circles under Harry’s eyes. “I’ve got an early birthday present for you Harry,” Draco smiled, pulling out the green wrapped package, not wanting to push Harry, when he obviously wasn’t feeling well.

“You didn’t have to Draco. You being there for me, listening to me, is enough,” Harry smiled.

“And I will always be there for you Harry. Goes both ways you know. You listened to me while I complained, then grieved for my mother when she was killed by Bellatrix. I know it’s hard to keep in contact with anyone while you stay with the muggles, so father and I came up with this gift,” Draco said, handing him the gift.

Harry carefully unwrapped the package, to see a green leather-bound journal with his name etched in gold on the front. “A journal?” Harry asked, flipping through the empty pages.

“Not just any journal Harry. Father got the idea from Riddles’ diary in our second year, except this one won’t kill you,” Draco smirked. “When you write . . . and you can use muggle pens if it’s easier, the message will automatically, magically appear in my journal. They are connected. I can write to you also. No owls needed.”

“Wow. Thank you so much Draco,” Harry smiled, looking at the journal in wonder.

“It’s also charmed so that no one but us two can read them,” Draco added.

Draco pulled on Harry’s arm, guiding him to lie down again, his head on his lap. He took a piece of paper that was in his pocket, then transfigured it into a cool, damp cloth, gently brushing it over Harry’s heated skin.

“Feels nice,” Harry softly said. “Thanks again Draco . . . for everything.”

“Anytime Harry,” Draco quietly replied, applying the cool cloth over and over again, even when he felt the deep, even breathing of the sleeping Gryffindor.
 

~*~

Harry had said goodbye to Draco after he woke up, then went to meet up with Ron and Hermione on the platform, to see them off. Almost as soon as he stepped through the magical barrier of Platform 9¾, he was embraced in the matronly arms of Molly Weasley, his surrogate mother, since he started at Hogwarts, six years before.

“Is your aunt and uncle meeting you Harry?” Arthur kindly asked.

Harry nodded his head and motioned to the rather obese man, that was glaring at them by the car. “Just my uncle,” he quietly said. “I better get going,” he added, turning his trolley, with his trunk and Hedwig’s rather large cage.

“Make sure you owl us regularly to let us know that you’re all right,” Molly said, hugging him again.

“I will,” Harry grinned, returning the embrace. “I better go,” he said, turning to see his uncle stalking his way.

Harry then quickly pushed the trolley straight towards his uncle, to have his arm grasped in a bruising grip, hurrying the pace until they arrived at the car. He hefted his trunk, into the trunk of the car, unassisted and under the watchful eye of his uncle. Although careful, the metal on the corner of the trunk left a tiny scratch into the paint.

With his back towards the watching Weasley’s, Vernon Dursley reached up to grasp the back of his neck. “You will pay for that boy,” Vernon threatened.

“Yes, Uncle Vernon,” Harry sighed, reaching up to rub the back of his neck, after his Uncle had let him go, then picked up Hedwig’s cage to put it in the back seat with him.

Harry nervously rubbed his sweating palms against his jean clad thighs. He felt somewhat reassured, feeling his wand in the hidden pocket of his jeans, even knowing he, by wizarding law, cannot do magic until his birthday at the end of July. He shifted in his seat, feeling the journal that Draco gave him, that lay warmly between the back of his jeans and the small of his back.

Harry was not surprised, when his Uncle pulled up into their driveway, opened his car door, then stalked to the front door of the house, leaving him to fend for himself with his trunk and Hedwig. He sighed and slowly got out of the car, to then drag his trunk with one hand, and the other awkwardly carrying Hedwig’s cage. Once through the door, he was taken by surprise, his hands dropping his precious cargo, when he was forcefully pushed back against the door, the door knob pressing painfully into his spine.

“If it wasn’t for that convict godfather of yours, you would be paying for that scratch with your blood,” Vernon threatened, his hand at Harry’s neck. “Now . . . the trunk in the cupboard, your bird in the shed.”

“But Uncle Vernon, Hedwig needs . . . ” Harry rasped out, trying to pry the thick fingers from his neck.

“The bird goes in the shed. You will feed it when you send your letters to your freaky friends.”

Harry took a few deep breaths once his uncle let him go, then righted the cage with a very pissed off bird inside. He picked up the one end of his trunk and dragged it to his once-upon-a-time bedroom and placed it inside, thankful that he had his wand hidden on himself. He watched as his uncle padlocked the cupboard, pocketing the key in his pocket. He followed his uncle to the back shed, quietly reaching down to throw some owl treats into the cage that he had in his pocket, and to unlatch the cage door.

He carefully placed the cage on a table, and gazed into Hedwig’s large, amber eyes. “I’ll see you in a few days,” he quietly said, knowing that she realized the situation. “Uncle Vernon, we need to open the window. Hedwig will need air,” he added, so Vernon could hear.

“No, we will not,” Vernon sneered.

“She will be needed to deliver the letters. My friends know she is mine,” he reminded him.

“Fine. But if anything is stolen from here, you will pay for it.”

Harry reached up and propped the window up, smiling to himself when he heard the scurrying of tiny mice feet in the darkened corners of the shed. He looked down at his feet, hiding his smile from his uncle as he squeezed himself out the shed, past his uncle.

“Petunia will be needing to put Dudders new car into the garage in a few hours. You will clean the garage and make sure there is plenty of room for his new car.”

‘Spoiled git,’ Harry thought to himself. “Yes, Sir,” Harry nodded, heading in the direction of the side garage door.

“You will not come in until it is spotless,” Vernon warned, going back into the house.

“Gods,” Harry exclaimed to himself when he turned on the garage light. He cleans it every year, but this year was the worst that he could remember. Boxes lay haphazardly around the floor, some of them, their contents overflowing over the tops. Broken milk bottles, and what he assumed were Dudley’s beer bottles, lay tossed and broken at the edge of the one wall, like they were carelessly swept there. Broken furniture and toys were piled into two of the corners, mostly due to Dudley’s childish tantrums over the years. If was like his relatives knew he was going to be there and purposely ransacked their own garage, to see him work his arse off.

He took a few deep breaths, as he stepped further into the garage, taking off his button down shirt, leaving him in his T-shirt. He wrapped his shirt around the journal and kept the wand at his side, then picked up a couple of markers from an overturned box before setting to work, sorting, refilling, and labeling the boxes as accurately as possible. After just a few boxes, his shirt was soaked to the skin from his exertions and his overly heated body.

Several hours later, Harry looked around at the partially cleaned garage, the boxes labeled and piled neatly in the one corner of the garage, after thoroughly sweeping and washing that area first. He looked at the broken glass at the one side, then closed the garage door. “Evanesco,” he quietly said, waving his hand over the mess. He smiled to himself as the glass and stains on the pavement disappeared.

“I wouldn’t let dad see you do that,” a voice said, from the partially open door.

“Dudley,” Harry said, surprised he didn’t hear his cousin come in. “You’re early.”

“It’s not that early,” Dudley shrugged, coming in further, looking around the garage. “Mum said you were cleaning, so I thought I’d come to clear out some of the broken things. Rick’s out there with his truck,” he added.

“You’re . . . you’re helping me? Why?” Harry stammered.

“I’ve come to a few self revelations the past year Harry,” Dudley said, opening the large garage door for Harry to see a shiny new, cherry black sports car, and a blond haired man opening the tailgate of his truck. He got a closer look at Harry, when more light came through the open garage door. “You don’t look so good Harry,” he said, nodding to the sweat soaked T-shirt.

“Haven’t been feeling too good the past few days,” Harry replied, pulling out a broken chair from the pile. He stepped around Dudley, as he didn’t trust the bigger man, and placed the chair by the door.

“Harry, I’m not going to do anything to you,” Dudley smirked, seeing how Harry avoided him.

“Why, all of a sudden?” Harry asked.

“A few things,” Dudley said, looking back at Rick, to see him rearranging things in the back of his truck. “Watch Rick, and tell me if he’s looking this way,” he quietly said.

“He’s not looking.”

Dudley turned his back to the open garage door and held out his hand. Harry gasped in shock, when a broken ski flew into his cousin’s hand. “That is why,” Dudley smiled, looking at the ski, then at Harry.

“Does Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia know?” Harry asked.

Dudley turned around again when he heard Rick walking up the driveway. “I’ll tell you later,” he whispered. “Rick. I’d like you to meet my cousin Harry.”

“Hello Harry,” Rick smiled, holding out his hand. “Dudley told me a bit about you. Sorry ‘bout your parents.”

“Thank you, and it was a long time ago. I don’t even remember much about them,” Harry replied, returning the handshake.

“I lost my mum when I was young too. Couldn’t imagine losing both,” Rick said. He then looked around them. “You were a destructive child Dudders,” he laughed, seeing the pile of broken furniture and toys.

“I was,” Dudley smirked. “I was a spoiled brat,” he admitted.

“Still are,” Rick grinned, nodding his head towards the new car.

Dudley just shrugged his one shoulder, then went to some of the labeled boxes Harry just finished with. “Why don’t you two haul the broken furniture and I’ll see what can be garbaged here?”

The three of them set to work, Harry listening to the other two joke back and forth. Harry and Rick piled the broken things onto the back of the truck, while Dudley slowly added to the pile with boxes of more broken things. After the truck was filled as much as possible, Rick and Dudley left to take it to the dumpsite, while Harry got more ready for the second haul.

Harry took a few moments to sit on a chair he wandlessly fixed, and slowly sipped the water his aunt silently left him. He was trailing an ice cube along his neck, when he caught sight of a shoe box that was wedged under a shelf, that was uncovered after some of the junk was hauled away. He went over and pulled the box out, sitting back down with it on his lap. He picked up his glass again to drink some of the water as he opened the box. The glass soon crashed to the floor, the glass shattering at his side as he looked inside the box.


 

Chapter Three

After Dudley and Rick left with the second and last load of junk, Harry went up to his room, the shoe box and his journal wrapped in his shirt. He had just put the box under the bed, when he heard his uncle’s heavy footsteps coming up the stairs, then down the hallway to his room.

The door slammed open and Harry turned to face him. “You were told to clean the garage,” Vernon said, through clenched teeth, his multiple chins shaking with rage, as he came closer.

“I did clean the garage,” Harry replied, taking a step back.

“I saw my Dudley helping you. Did you use your freakish ways to make him?”

“No, Sir,” Harry began, but couldn’t say any more after the breath was knocked out of him, from the blow to the stomach his uncle gave him. He took a few deep breaths. “I can’t do magic outside of Hogwarts Uncle,” Harry wheezed out.

“What did I tell you about using that language in this house,” Vernon shouted, dragging Harry up by the collar, to shove him up against the wall. Harry didn’t even have time to flinch, before a thick fist connected to his right eye. “You will stay here with no supper,” he said, giving another push against Harry’s chest, then grinning evilly, as Harry crumpled down onto the floor.

Harry waited until he heard the deadbolts sliding into place on the door, before crawling over to the bed, his hand reaching for the journal. He sat on the floor, his back leaning against the bed, using an ‘accio’ spell to have his glasses, and a pen from the desk come to him. He opened the journal as he slipped the glasses gingerly onto his nose.


Hello Harry,

Hope your relatives were a bit easier on you so far. I know it’s not even been a day, but I was watching from my father’s limo when your uncle was grabbing you by the neck. Your description of your uncle did not do him justice. He looks more like a blast-ended skrewt than a troll. Please remember to tell me, or anyone for that matter, if the beatings get out of hand. Of course, any beating are out of hand, but know that you have friends out there to help you, Harry.

Your favorite Slytherin,
Draco

Harry smiled as he read Draco’s message, then began to write on the following page.


Dear Draco,
...