Born in Frustration

~Chapter Ten: Fun with the Dursley’s~

Harry didn’t know what possessed him to hug Draco Malfoy. He was just so unbelievably relieved and happy. He didn’t know what possessed Draco to return the embrace, either. It was all a bit confusing. But, at the moment, Harry didn’t care. He’d think about that later. Draco was letting him cry against his shoulder and offering support. He could feel Draco’s hand rubbing his back, his soft voice whispering words of comfort in Harry’s ear. Warmth spread throughout Harry’s body, the likes of which he had never felt before.

It was an odd sort of feeling. It was something new and different, something happy. Harry liked it very much, though he would never admit that out loud. He sighed against Draco’s chest and Draco must have sensed that he had cried himself out as he drew back, looking down at him.

“I’m happy for you, Harry,” he said gently. “I really am. No one should have to live with such horrible people. Not even you.” He smiled, winking.

Harry looked up at Draco. “Th – thanks,” Harry hiccoughed. “I’m sorry, I just... I just…”

Draco placed a finger over Harry’s lips. “Don’t apologize.” He backed away from Harry, removing them from the awkward embrace. “Stupid Gryffindor,” he snarked playfully, and Harry chuckled weakly. “Feel better now?” Draco asked him.

Harry nodded, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand. Draco looked around the room.

“Well, Potter, whatever shall we do today?” Mischief was evident on Draco’s face as he walked around the small room. He knelt by the bed and looked under it, wandered to the wardrobe, glancing in. Harry watched Draco, a bit unnerved.

“Um, Draco?”

“Mmhmm.”

“What are you looking for?”

“Where are your things, Potter?”

“What things?”

“Your things, your trunk, books, wand, robes…” Draco looked pointedly at Harry.

“Errr – my uncle locks everything up when I come home at the end of term,” Harry said, blushing slightly.

“WHAT?” Draco shouted angrily. “How are you supposed to do your summer work?”

“I – umm… I usually sneak down when they’re sleeping or gone out and get what I need. But, I – I haven’t had a chance yet.” Harry wasn’t sure he liked where this was going. He really didn’t want to go back to talking about these painful things again. Harry moved and sat heavily on the bed. He was waiting for Draco to start to lecture him or ask more embarrassing questions.

Draco, however, seemed to have other ideas. “Well, that just won’t do, Potter. Where are they locked up?”

Harry trembled a little. He hoped Draco didn’t notice. “Thecupboardunderthestairs,” he said very fast, mumbling, hoping Draco wouldn’t ask him to repeat it.

Draco walked over to Harry. Grabbing his chin, he forced Harry to meet his eyes. “We are going to talk about that cupboard, Potter,” he said firmly. “But I think that for now, I’ll settle for having a spot of fun with the Dursleys.” Draco grinned wickedly, pulling Harry up off the bed and dragging him toward the door. “Today is Saturday. Your uncle should be home, yes?”

Harry nodded uncertainly. “Draco, I don’t think…”

“Shush,” Draco hushed him, “you worry too much, Harry. Trust me.”

Draco bounded out of the room and down the stairs, dragging Harry behind him.

The Dursleys were seated around the kitchen table. Vernon was reading the paper, while Petunia talked inanely about nothing. Dudley was staring at the small telly on the counter, shovelling food into his mouth, mindlessly. They did not, at first, notice the two young wizards entering the kitchen…

“Good afternoon!” Draco said cheerily. “How is everyone today?”

All of the Dursleys jumped and Vernon’s pudgy face flared with anger and resentment. His lips moved in soundless fury under his bushy moustache as he forcibly restrained himself from saying what was on his mind.

Draco ignored him. Smiling sweetly, he plopped down in the chair beside Dudley. Arching his eyebrows suggestively, repulsion clearly directed at the rotund boy. He leaned in close to Dudley’s face. Dudley paled, his body shaking. Clearly, Dudley Dursley was afraid of Draco Malfoy.

“Do you ever stop eating, fatty?” Draco asked.

Normally, Harry might find Dudley’s torment hysterical, but he was sure he would be paying for Draco’s antics later. He could only hope that Draco wouldn’t go too far. Harry pressed his back against the wall, edging his way into the kitchen proper, trying to avoid the menacing glares his relatives were sure to give him once they noticed he was in the room.

Draco seemed to have other ideas however, and he looked directly over at Harry…

“Potter, for Merlin’s sake,” he grumbled, “get your arse in here and sit down.” Draco waited a moment or two, before he got up, stalked over to Harry, and took his hand, walking him to the table. “You are being rude,” he chastised. An evil smirk spread itself across Draco’s face as he sat down again. Harry did not miss it, dreading whatever thought the other boy was having.

“Draco!” He gasped…

Draco had grabbed Harry round the waist and pulled him down on his lap. Harry squeaked, wriggling to get free. Draco merely tightened his grip, forcing Harry to stay put. Harry wrinkled his nose, sighing in defeat. He was already in a lot of trouble, nothing he did would help him now.

Vernon and Petunia stared at the two boys, shocked. Vernon, it appeared, had reached his limit of tongue holding. He narrowed his eyes dangerously.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he seethed. “I’ll not have that unnaturalness in my home.”

“What unnaturalness are you whining about?” Draco asked innocently, mirth written all over his face. Harry blushed furiously. What was Draco thinking? As if Harry’s life at Privet Drive was not bad enough, but, sitting on Draco’s lap! His uncle would definitely take this the wrong way.

“That!” Vernon spat, pointing between Draco and Harry. “I don’t know what you get up to in your disgusting little world, boy, but boys do not sit on other boys’ laps in the real world!”

“And what would you know of the real world, fat-man?” Draco laughed.

“HOW DARE YOU!” Vernon started…

“You say that an awful lot, fat-man, and it's starting to annoy me,” Draco interrupted.

A sudden spark in Draco’s eyes made Harry very nervous. He could see a plan forming in the blond’s brain and he struggled to remove himself from Draco’s lap and the subsequent crossfire. Unfortunately, Harry’s days of starvation had weakened him significantly, and he was unable to break free.

“You will remove your freakish unnaturalness from my house!” Vernon demanded.

“There you go again, fat-man,” Draco drawled. “What did I tell you last night about that word?” Draco sighed dramatically. “Does it bother you? Harry sitting on my lap, that is?” Draco batted his eyelashes.

Harry’s insides squirmed at the insult Draco threw at his uncle. Though, Draco’s reminder of the consequences of displeasing him seemed to have a chilling effect on his uncle, aunt and cousin. Harry watched as the three Dursleys reddened. His aunt looked disgusted, yet subdued. Dudley was inching away from Draco and his uncle seemed to be thinking over his words carefully. Harry knew it wouldn’t be long before Vernon’s anger got the better of him, and Draco was doing his utmost to make sure Vernon exploded as soon as possible…

Draco wrapped one arm very tightly around Harry. He moved his other hand, and to Harry’s shock, gently brushed Harry’s hair from his forehead. Then Draco did something unexpected; he softly kissed Harry’s cheek. Harry paled, his mouth agape. Vernon slammed his hands on the table, standing as the rage coursed through his body.

“YOU WILL STOP THIS AT ONCE, YOU DISGUSTING BOY!” Vernon bellowed. He violently moved around the table and Harry shrunk against the boy holding him, all discomfort associated with the small kiss forgotten. Fear was creeping up his spine like a slow, torturous electric pulse. Draco must have sensed his fear, because he pulled Harry closer to him, rubbing against Harry’s arm reassuringly.

Vernon rounded on Harry, spit flying from his mouth. “I KNEW YOU WERE A FILTHY LITTLE WHORE, BOY!” He screamed. “YOU DISGUST ME, YOU AND YOUR VILE FREAKISHNESS…” Vernon’s words were cut short as Draco rose from his chair, setting Harry carefully on his feet. His wand was drawn and pointed directly at Vernon’s nose.

“What did I tell you about that word, fat-man?” He hissed, dangerously. “What did I tell you about Harry?” Draco forced the enraged man to back up, Vernon’s memory of the previous night returning full-force. Draco might still be a boy, but he was a boy who could do magic and was not afraid to do so.

Dudley had flown, relatively speaking, from his seat at the sight of the wand, nearly knocking over the table in the process. He tore around the table, climbing into his mother’s lap. Petunia was petrified and clung to the humongous boy. Harry was surprised by the Dursleys’ cowering. He had obviously missed something between them last night.

“Do we need to go over the rules again, fat-man?” Draco sneered. Vernon shook his head, his eyes wide and dilated with fear.

Draco’s eyes quirked as if he was remembering something; he turned on Petunia quickly. “Why, exactly, are you lot eating while Harry is not?” he asked angrily. “Did I not tell you that you were to make sure Harry was properly fed?” Petunia melted against the wall. “You,” he snarled at her, “will be making Harry and I a nice, hearty lunch, you foul, little…” Petunia shrunk away from the harsh words.

Draco stepped back, taking a cleansing breath. “Harry and I have school work to do,” he said after a moment. He moved toward Harry, grabbing his hand. “Lunch, upstairs, ten minutes.” It was an order and Harry had no doubt his aunt would be complying. Harry could not help but smile. He may not fully understand what had transpired between Draco and the Dursleys while he was asleep last night, but he wasn’t about to question it.

The boys paused in the hall; Draco looked at Harry knowingly. “This cupboard, Harry?” Draco asked, pointing at the small door under the front stairs. Harry looked at the floor, blushing. He nodded.

Draco pointed his wand at the door. “Alohomora.” The lock clicked open.

He opened the door, reaching in and pulling out Harry’s belongings. He handed Harry his broom, then retrieved the trunk himself. Draco paused, looking into the small space, and his nose wrinkled in disgust. Harry felt his face heat up. He didn’t really like the thought of Draco seeing where he had spent the first eleven years of his life. It was embarrassing. It made Harry want to go hide in his room. He reached down for the trunk and the sound of it scraping along the floor broke Draco from his perusal of the cupboard. He shut the door with a loud click, and then grabbed the other handle on the trunk. The two boys carried the trunk back to Harry’s ‘other’ room in silence.