Harry dressed quickly, trying not to think of all the clothing around him and if they had belonged to kids just like him or if they had been bought and thrown there for kids just like him. He found Draco’s clothes balled together, shoes tossed against the wall. Some blood had gotten on them but Harry figured it was still better to wear your own clothes than someone else’s—especially these weird, sad clothes. Harry carefully dressed the sleeping Draco, trying not to wake him up just in case the magic only worked when Draco was asleep, and he might wake up full of weird lust.
Getting Draco out the bedroom was easy enough, but the living room was difficult, the piles of newspapers harder to navigate around. Harry thought of turning the light on but was afraid someone from outside might see and know that they were escaping. He thought briefly of looking through the fridge, maybe finding any money stashed in the apartment so that they wouldn’t be without resources. He wouldn’t feel bad steeling from these terrible people. But he didn’t want to linger any longer than they had to for fear of tempting fate.
Harry was carrying Draco to the outer door, arms under the fair boy’s armpits as he dragged him, when the door swung wide open and jolting him still. It was the straggly red haired man, filling the door with his large form. He didn’t say a word, face half in shadow while he just stood there. There was something off about the man and Harry glared, trying to figure out his options.
He tightened his arms around Draco, deciding he could give this man a chance seeing he hadn’t seemed interested in hurting Draco the way the sandy haired man had. “If you walk away now, I won’t kill you,” Harry said blandly, letting the darkness fill inside him.
The man didn’t say anything and Harry noticed that he wasn’t breathing properly and blood was dripping wet down the man’s face and neck. Harry did not want to drop Draco but he had a feeling whatever was happening with the man was going to need two hands to deal with. Harry was just starting to lower Draco to the ground, eyes fixed on the doorway, when the large man lurched forward, walking in halting jerks into the room.
Quickly backing up, Harry froze again as he caught sight of another figure following the man in. Swallowing, Harry stood taller, pulling Draco closer to his chest. The stranger was dressed all in black, tall and fit, a cloak swirling around his shoulders—Completely unremarkable in many ways, except somehow these clothes were also extremely fine and wealthy, the lines perfect, his black boots glowing in the dim light. His face was aristocratic, blue eyes sharp, long blond hair the color of Draco’s as was many more of his features, which was the only reason why Harry was not immediately killing the clearly dangerous wizard before him.
Draco’s father was powerful and Harry felt it as near a threat as he had when seeing the not so powerful sandy haired man touching Draco. But that power was not being directed at Harry, instead on the puppet of a man the straggly haired man had become, body too tight, beady eyes vacant and blood gushing down his face. The blond man shut the door behind him, walking with cat like grace as he moved around his prey and caught sight of Harry and Draco.
Revealing no emotion except a twitch to his lips to have found his son passed out in the arms of another boy in an apartment full of piles and dirt, Lucius glanced to the door where artificial light was streaming out. He strode silently across the room, Harry’s heart pounding once he realized that Draco’s father would see what he had done.
Harry would never be allowed to see Draco again. Hell, he might go to jail. Unless he left now before anyone knew who he was. Yeah, Draco might know that he was Harry Potter, but maybe the boy wouldn’t tell since he had save him and all. Hands shaking, Harry lowered Draco carefully to the floor.
“I gotta go, Draco. Your dad’s going to take care of you now. I… I hope you feel better… It was really nice to meet you.” Catching a final look at Draco’s peaceful, sleeping face, Harry stood and made his way to the door. He paused, staring at the straggly haired man blocking the way. He was breathing strangely, standing sideways as if he was going to fall over at any moment. Harry edged carefully around him, feet brushing against a pile of newspapers and accidentally knocking them over. Swearing quietly, he quickly reached for the door.
The door wouldn’t open no matter how hard Harry pulled or fiddled with the lock. He whirled, Draco’s father stepping out from the other room and fixing eyes on him. The blond was very much a predator but without the sick twistedness of the sandy haired man. Regarding him silently for a long moment, the blond man looked away, moving to Draco and crouching.
“What happened here?”
Harry jumped, not expecting the man to speak. He edged to the side so he could see them better. Together there was no question if the man was Draco’s father. Harry did not answer right away, not certain how much he should reveal. He had killed someone. At the time it had seemed very much like the right thing to do, so much so that he had been considering killing the straggly haired man as well just to be safe. But he was not certain that this man here would understand that—He was not certain anyone should understand such messed up logic.
“One of these men hit me over the head and brought us here,” Harry said, carefully choosing his words. “I woke up and that one wasn’t here anymore. And the other one was… in the room there… with Draco.” Maybe he would assume the man was already dead? No one would normally think a kid could kill a grown man.
Lucius looked up, eyes piercing into his. Harry had a feeling very little got past this man. “Why is my son asleep? He is not waking.”
Biting his lip, Harry shifted from one foot to the other. “You, um, you shouldn’t wake him. The man did something to him, and… well… I couldn’t fix it.”
Face set in a grim frown, Lucius stood, holding his hand out for Harry to come closer. Glancing up at the still unmoving straggly haired man, Harry walked around him, keeping a good five feet between himself and Draco’s father.
“What’s your name?” Draco’s father asked, his voice a low purr as his eyes accessed him warily.
Harry considered lying but figured Draco would likely tell his father his first name at the least. “It’s Harry.” He narrowed his eyes, watching as the man stilled and glanced to where his hair hid his scar. Apparently Harry was a very rare name among wizards if everyone immediately assumed he was Harry Potter.
“Harry, I need you to understand that I am not going to hurt you,” the man said evenly, his eyes never leaving his. “I am here for my son and have no interest in anything else. You are not in trouble. Nothing you say is going to get you in trouble. I do not care about how things happened but I do need to know what happened. I need to… I need to know how to help Draco. I can’t do that if I don’t know what happened here.”
Harry nodded slowly, understanding that as a father this man would want to help his son—Because even though he was a powerful man, he was still a good father. Harry was glad Draco had a good dad. “I don’t know everything. The other one hit me off the back of the head and I was knocked out.”
“But then you woke up,” Lucius pressed, his voice soothing.
“Yes. I woke up. And Draco was… was calling for help.”
“Did you help him? Did you try to go get help?” Lucius asked when Harry trailed off.
Biting his lip, Harry nodded. “I… I killed the man hurting Draco.”
Something shifted in the man before him, something that set Harry on edge, drawing his eye to the regal face and watching carefully to see if the blond was going to attack. But then the man calmed, jaw loosening, and nodded at Harry to continue. “What happened after the man was dead?”
This was somehow more difficult to speak, Harry’s hand tangling in his hair as he glanced down at Draco’s sleeping face. “He was… He said the man cursed him. That it made him… like…”
“The man had touched my son?” Lucius interrupted, his face completely blank of emotion but Harry sensed the anger frothing beneath.
“Yes… I don’t know how much. He had… taken Draco’s clothes. When I came in he had been… his fingers had been… inside him…”
Lucius held his hand up, his eyes closing a moment. “This is when you killed him. How did you kill him, Harry?”
Harry shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I don’t know… sometimes I want things… things bigger than I ever usually want… Then the darkness comes, and it… it gives me what I want.”
“Do you want things a lot?” Lucius asked, and Harry wondered if he wanted to know if he had killed a lot of people.
“This was the first time I, uh, wanted that,” Harry said after a moment. “There have been other things, much smaller things… but never that.”
Nodding in understanding, Lucius pinched the bridge of his nose, releasing a slow breath. “And what happened after the man was dead?”
Harry sighed, wishing it had not come back to this again. “Draco was very—Damn it. The man did something to him. It made Draco want to… to touch me. And… and be touched back…” Harry pulled at his hair again, not meeting the man’s eye.
“Alright, but he is asleep now,” Lucius said after a moment, his voice strangely low.
Harry nodded quickly, glancing back at the man. “I didn’t want him to be like that anymore. That’s not how—Draco’s not like that. He’s a good kid, so I let the darkness come and fix it. It, um, it put him to sleep.”
Lucius took a step towards him and Harry instinctively stepped back. Staring at the flinching boy, Lucius instead held his hand out again. “Harry, I need you to wake him up. You are very powerful. I don’t think you understand just how powerful. I cannot wake Draco up.”
Harry bit his lip again, glancing down at Draco. “But… but he’ll be… He won’t be himself,” he whispered anxiously. “I don’t know how to fix him.”
“That’s alright, Harry. I know how to break curses. It takes a more complicated kind of magic that you won’t know how to do until you’re older. If you wake Draco up, I’ll be able to fix him eventually.”
Swallowing, Harry hesitantly nodded. Draco’s father would know more about these things, certainly more than he did. He just didn’t want Draco to be scared, and so… feeling so out of control like he had when Harry had put him to sleep.
Harry slowly walked up to where Draco was lying, edging around Lucius and another pile of newspapers. He crouched over Draco, gently touching the boy’s silky hair. Staring down, he let the darkness fill him again, empty and heavy inside. “Draco, I’m going to wake you up now. Don’t… Try not to be afraid.” Lashes lowering, he leaned in, listening to Draco breathe evenly. Carefully he brushed his lips to the boy’s, pulling away when Draco’s breath changed.
Gray eyes regarded him intently and Harry wondered for a moment if the boy was himself. But then Draco gave a soft gasp and then a moan, his face flushing quickly. Harry slipped back when the boy’s hands reached for him, standing and looking at Draco’s father helplessly. “He, uh, he can’t help himself. Don’t think poorly of him for…” Draco gave another needy moan and Harry looked away.
“I understand,” Lucius said tightly, his eyes glued on his gasping son. Draco heard him, eyes widening as he looked up to find his father there.
“Father… I got lost…”
“It’s alright, Draco. Your mother is fine, and I’ve come to bring you home,” he said swiftly, kneeling down and gently pinning the hands that had inadvertently reached for him. “Draco, I’m going to help you sleep. Until the spell can be removed, I’m going to have you sleep.”
Draco nodded, body rocking on the floor. “Okay… oh, oh no…” He closed his eyes, caught hands tightening into fists. “Feel so hot…”
“Hush, it’s time to sleep.” One handed, Lucius reached for his pocket while holding Draco still, using his wand to spell the boy to sleep. Draco gave a soft murmur and then relaxed, his body losing the heated tension of earlier.
Harry gave a quiet sigh of relief when Draco was asleep again. The boy seemed almost tormented, the terrible spell cast on him turning him into some sort of sex slave puppet. It wasn’t right. Draco was too sweet and it wasn’t right.
“Harry, would you mind sitting with Draco while I clean up?” Lucius asked, standing again. Harry did not want to stay, afraid that Draco’s father was still going to bring him to the police. But the door was locked and he really didn’t have much of a choice. Unless he was going to kill the man and that seemed to be very wrong since he was Draco’s dad.
Harry sat, eyes fixed on Draco’s sleeping face while Lucius left to disappear into the other room. It was a long time, Lucius returning only to have the red straggly haired man to jerk and spasm behind into the room with Draco’s father again. The door was shut, and everything became very silent and still, all light now gone from the room except for the digital clock on the mantel.
Harry could feel the power in the other room. It was very much the darkness, bringing fire that burned so hot even bone could not survive. Harry reached towards it, feeling it against his awakening senses, trying to remember exactly how it felt in case he ever needed to dispose of a body in the future. The power died down and he relaxed again, staring at Draco in the dark while waiting for his father to finish.
Lucius slowly opened the door, stepped out into the room and shutting the door behind him. His wand glowing light, he made his way to where Harry sat and Draco slept.
“Your family must be missing you, Harry.”
Harry shrugged silently, fingers still combing Draco’s hair.
“Do they live near by? Maybe by Diagon Alley?”
Harry shook his head, finally raising his eyes to the man. “You’re not going to tell, right? That’s why you…” He tilted his head towards the room Lucius had left.
“I’m not going to tell. Are you going to tell?” Lucius asked, already fairly certain of the answer.
“Hell, no. My Aunt and Uncle wouldn’t ever let me in the door again. They can’t stand that I’m strange.” He sighed, pushing himself up to his feet. “I should be going, Sir. I’m glad—I’m glad he has a good dad like you.”
Lucius watched him walk to the door, Harry’s hand on the handle that refused still to open. “Could you just…?” He asked, huffing in annoyance.
“Harry, what is your last name?”
Rolling his eyes, Harry moved his hair so the man could see his forehead and let him leave already. But Lucius still did not open the door, instead walking forward and bending down so he could see his scar clearly.
“Your family, they don’t practice magic, do they?” Lucius asked, touching Harry’s scar carefully. “Do they know what you are?”
Harry didn’t move, not used to being touched. He stared at the man that looked so much like Draco but very much not the same. He looked more like if Draco were to grow up into a dangerous beast instead of the sweet boy he was. But Lucius didn’t hurt Harry the way Dudley did when he touched him or Vernon for that matter. No, Draco’s father was almost acting like Harry was a skittish cat, gently trying to pet him calm. And for some reason it was working.
“Harry, someone as special as you needs to be around people that understand him. Otherwise you could want something that could hurt others. Not even on purpose like tonight. Because tonight was on purpose.”
“Yes,” Harry agreed quietly, eyes trapped in the icy blue gaze before him. “I wanted to save Draco. And… I wanted to kill that man.”
“I am very glad that you wanted that, Harry. Because I wanted that too, and I was not here to do it.” Lucius let his fingers curl through Harry’s messy locks, head tilted appraisingly. “Can you see how useful that is? Having someone around that could protect Draco while I’m not home? Someone who would like to play with him. Keep him from being so lonely.”
Harry’s eyelids drooped but there was no magic trying to control him. Lucius felt safe—Strong, and powerful, and safe, and it made him feel calm. This man was not afraid of him. He had seen Harry do something terrible, and he had then done something just as terrible. That was why Draco wasn’t afraid of Harry either. Because he had a father just like him.
“I like Draco, a lot,” Harry admitted.
“I can tell. I can also tell that he likes you, too… Maybe even more…” Lucius mused, thumb moving over Harry’s scar again. “And we like to give Draco the things he likes… Right?”
“Right,” Harry echoed with a small smile.