Wizard Lost

A/N: I am sorry about the horrible way this chapter had been posted. I am having trouble getting the updates to show. I am guessing that either it didn’t all erase when I tried editing it or the browser messed up and inserted one into the other. Since I am having trouble with my other fic not posting correctly as well; I really don’t know what to say other than I am sorry.

Thank you for letting me know this chapter had gone fubar.


Meanwhile in England

“Report!” snapped a bored and irritable Lucius Malfoy. He was currently sprawled elegantly in the leather chair behind his desk; his current ‘pet’ between his long legs, working frantically to pleasure his master. Needless to say he wasn’t happy to be interrupted.

Ignoring the wet sounds coming from under his lord’s desk, Nott kept his eyes on a point just beyond Lucius’ left ear. He had learned the hard way that meeting the Malfoy Patriarch’s eyes got you hurt no matter how efficient or loyal you were. Voldemort had been harsh and cruel but at least with him you had a chance of predicting his reactions; with Lucius there was no telling what would get you crucio’d. He might be very pleased with your report and then punish you for failing to know that he had wanted Filet Mignon for dinner that night; a fact he never bothered to mention even to the house elves.

“We have located the hide out of the traitor Snape. Even as we talk the place is being surrounded,” Nott said, resisting the urge to wipe the nervous sweat from his brow. It would be seen as a sign of weakness; something Lucius hated nearly as much as he hated Muggles.

The slurping sounds from under the desk increased and Nott couldn’t resist the way his eyes slid over to glance at the stony form of Narcissa, Lucius’ wife. She sat in a nearby chair, a book in her hands; the only sign that she was aware of the activities in which her husband was engaged. Even with the large bruise marring the dewy surface of one cheek, she was a striking witch and Nott didn’t believe she deserved the treatment she was receiving at the hands of her husband.

“And my son?” Lucius inquired sharply, the tone cold as he looked from his wife back to Nott with narrowed eyes.

“There has been no sign of Draco, my lord,” Nott answered carefully. He had seen the expression on Lucius’ face and his stomach plummeted. His hope of walking out uncursed dwindling until it barely flickered; the icy ball of fear that settled in his chest making him feel ill.

“Avery and Wilkins have had the place under surveillance for the past two weeks; if your son is inside, he is taking the utmost care not to be seen,” he answered, grasping his shaking hands to still them.

“My son is to be found, Nott. If he isn’t delivered to me within a week, Theodore here will be paying the price!” Lucius snarled, fisting his hands in the dark strands of his pet’s hair and dragging him from under the desk, turning him to face the other wizard.

Nott’s eyes widened in shock and he nearly went to his knees when he saw who had been under Lucius’ desk. He hadn’t a clue as to how the new Dark lord had managed to get his hands on Theo; he had thought him safely hidden away in France . The sight of his son’s eyes looking so listless, the bruises, cuts and whip marks covering his pale skin, brought tears to his eyes.

“So I have made used only the boy’s mouth,” Lucius snarled, licking the side of Theo’s face lewdly. “If you fail me again, Theo here will become the entertainment at the next gathering. That Parkinson twit has become such the little whore she doesn’t even scream any longer; just spreads her legs. I am sure the others will greatly appreciate a new toy.”

“I will not fail you, my lord,” Nott choked out before stumbling out the door.

Smirking evilly, Lucius thrust Theo back down between his legs. “Continue!” he barked and then crooked a finger at his wife. “I insist you come watch this, Narcissa. Maybe you will finally learn how to use your mouth for something other than defying me,” he said coldly.

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Sam returned to the motel room to a spitting mad Elijah being not so gently bathed by an equally angry Dean. He entered the bathroom just in time to see his brother dodge the fist swung at his nose. They were yelling so loudly they couldn’t hear his trying to get there attention. Retrieving the now empty take out bag he filled it with air and then slammed his hands together, popping it.

At the resulting bang, the yelling stopped instantly and Sam found himself looking into two pairs of green eyes; one set a soft moss green, the other a vivid emerald.

“What is going on?” he asked, dropping the busted bag into the trash before leaning against the door frame. “I could hear you yelling all the way down in the parking lot.

“He stinks and didn’t want to bathe!” Dean said, glaring at the drenched Elijah. “The little fucker keeps trying to pop me one!”

“Ya wanted to bathe me yourself, ya perverted wanker! I had no problem taking a shower but ya wouldn’t let me, I have done told ya, I ain’t letting ya fuck me!” Elijah spat back, blinking water out of his eyes.

“And I have told you I wasn’t after that!” Dean shouted, bringing his hands down hard on the edge of the tub in frustration.

“Then why are ya trying to wash me yourself? I am not a little kid. I am seventeen for fucks sake; I know how to wash myself, ya slimy git!” Harry challenged, not backing down so much as an inch.

“I am not stupid, the only reason ya want to get your hands on me is to bend me over the sink and shove your cock up my arse…well I ain’t having it. I ain’t a whore and if I were, it would damn sure cost ya more than a burger and fries!”

Not used to someone speaking so bluntly, Sam blinked rapidly a few times in shock. Seeing Elijah up close, it was evident that he and Dean had been wrong about his age which made why he was reluctant to be bathed like a child.

“Why are you trying to wash him if you knew he wasn’t a kid,” he asked his brother, curious to the answer. He didn’t believe that Dean was after sex so was at a loss as to why he was trying to wash someone capable of doing so themselves.

“I want to make sure he is clean,” Dean retorted, never taking his glare off Elijah. “You didn’t smell him, Sammy. I have smelled dirty socks that smelled better.

“Dean…get out,” Sam said plainly, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “He can wash himself and when he gets out, he can tell us why he has been following us.”

Grumbling under his breath, Dean stood up and walked passed his brother, shooting him a glare as he did so. Sam, in his opinion, was getting far too bossy and Dean was almost ready to call him on it.

“What is your name, kid?” Sam asked, idly wondering if the clothing he had taken would fit. He had gathered a large assortment but looking at the kid now he could see that he was a bit bigger than Sam had thought.

“I ain’t fucking ya, either!” Elijah said, hands clenching into fists as he thrust his chin out defiantly. He had felt safe fighting Dean but there was something different about Sam; an unknown element that caused to act more cautiously.

Chuckling, Sam shook his head. “I didn’t want you here in the first place so my touching you is the last thing you have to worry about,” he said bluntly. It wasn’t normally the way he would have spoken to anyone but there was something about the teen that made him feel twitchy and he didn’t like not knowing what.

“You got fifteen minutes and then we are having a little talk,” Sam said, smirking at the way Elijah’s eyes kept glancing at the window.

“Its painted shut; one of the first things I check when we first rented this room. Even if you manage to open it, there is chicken wire blocking the way out. Fifteen minutes and then I am sending my brother back in.” Sam said.

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Glaring until the door closed behind Sam, Elijah quickly stood up to check the window for himself. If he had known that following the two brothers would have lead to all this trouble; he would have crawled into his hidey hole and stayed there. He couldn’t believe that Dean had tried washing him like a little kid; he wouldn’t have minded so much if he hadn’t a secret to keep but the thought still irked him.

Stepping back into the tub, he pulled the drain and turned on the shower; smiling in bliss as the hot water flowed over him. Soaping a cloth, he scrubbed his body until the water ran clear and then started on his hair. It reached the bottom of his shoulder blades and he thanked whomever was listening that he had the type of hair that didn’t mat up easily. Despite his hair looking fairly clean, it had been over a week since he had last had the chance to wash it so he lathered it twice; using generous amounts of shampoo.

Pulling back the curtain, he frowned at seeing folded clothing, deodorant and a comb; unhappy someone had entered the steamy room without his knowing. He figured it must have been Dean as he hadn’t felt the weird tingling sensation he did when Sam was near but then supposed the water beating down on him could have camouflaged it.

The clothing fit him pretty well. The jeans were a bit snug and the top a little short but having on clean clothing that wasn’t all but falling off of him more than made up for it. There wasn’t any underwear but that was okay; he couldn’t remember the last time he had wore a pair; second hand clothing was one thing; second hand underwear he could do without.

Dressing quickly, he set to work on his hair or at least tried too. The cheap comb snapped into pieces as he tried working through the third snarl. He really didn’t want to have a talk and hoped by stalling to cause the two brothers to forget his presence enough he could sneak out so started working out the knots with his fingers.

He drastically underestimated how badly both brothers wanted answers. His allotted time had scarcely passed the door was opened suddenly and Elijah found himself looking up into a pair of astonished green eyes.

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“I know what you are going to say and don’t!” Dean said the moment Sam shut the bathroom door. “I didn’t know how old he was; I honestly thought he was a brat teen year old far too cocky for his own good!”

He was busily and aggressively cleaning his guns. They didn’t really need it but he needed to do something with his hands. He didn’t like founding out that it wasn’t a kid hat had been following them and felt like he had been tricked; that didn’t set well at all. To his way of thinking it meant he had gotten slack; failing to notice things he should have. He had just assumed the ‘kid’ hadn’t been dangerous and that pissed him off. Demons didn’t possess just adults and they were lethal no matter the size of their host body.

“I thought he was a kid too so calm down,” Sam said taking a seat in one of the rooms two chairs. He knew his brother and was pretty sure he knew what had him so worked up. Dean felt he wasn’t allowed to make mistakes. Sam blamed it on their father for introducing Dean to a job where mistakes could get you killed at too young an age. When other teens had been worrying about getting a zit on the day of the prom or making bad grades; he and Dean both had been worrying about whether they had laid down enough salt to keep out demons or ghosts.

Being four years older than his brother often meant it had fallen Dean’s shoulder’s to see to Sam’s care. Doing so meant Dean never really had a childhood. Keeping Sam safe had not always been easy and the few times he failed had their father coming down hard on him. As they grew older and began to actively aid in hunts; the dangers grew. Dean was often hard pressed to keep both of them alive while at the same time learning to be the “warrior” John wanted him to be. Sam couldn’t figure out how he had handled the pressure without losing his mind.

“Yeah…well, I should have noticed. I let myself relax and it could have gotten one of us killed. Sure…it was fine this time but what about the next? You were right, I am getting too soft; it won’t happen again,” Dean said gruffly, jamming a cleaning rod down the barrel of his gun hard enough that Sam was surprised it didn’t break.

“Dad filled your head with all this shit about being a good warrior but he forgot to mention something, Dean. Everyone makes mistakes, even you. You are good at hunting and you have kept me safe when I couldn’t do so myself and I thank you for that but I am no longer that headstrong little kid that thinks he knows best. I am a grown man and perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I appreciate the fact you’re watching my back but you no longer need too. You can take a step back and relax a little,” Sam said earnestly, peering out at his brother through the riot of soft brown curls falling over his brow.

“No I can’t, Sam,” Dean insisted adamantly, looking into eyes so like his own. “If I make a mistake, you might die and I couldn’t live with that!”

Sam signed, closing his eyes. He had been trying for at least a year to make Dean understand that he was allowed to be human and that he wasn’t responsible for every thing that might go wrong. So far it was like talking to a wall. Just as he opened his mouth to make a retort, Dean got to his feet and headed for the bathroom.

Dean really didn’t understand why Sam kept pushing him to relax. Hunting was dangerous in itself but when you had made a “name” for yourself among the supernaturals you hunted; you became both the hunter and the hunted. One moment of being distracted could mean your life. He didn’t want to talk about it anymore, so went to retrieve their shadow from the bathroom, knowing that at least for a time, Sam would let it drop in favor of getting answers to some questions.

Jerking the door open he was totally unprepared for the sight that met his eyes. Clean and without the clothing that swallowed him, Elijah was plainly not the child he had once thought. Dewy soft skin covered a sleekly muscled frame that was far from being childish even if overly thin. He was looking at a teen posed on the brink of manhood and Dean found him completely and utterly breathe taking.

There was no doubt that Elijah was highly attractive; pretty as only a teen could be. He stood riveted, eyes glued to a trickle of water that meandered its way down the younger male’s chest to finally disappear into the indention of his navel and his mouth ran dry.

Eliajh saw the lust so evident in Dean’s face and for once it didn’t make him cringe. It was quite the opposite; he found himself responding to it; his lips parting slightly as his breathing quickened. Shocked to find himself aroused, he dropped his eyes, his arousal evident by the erection tenting the towel about his hips.

Having followed Dean, Sam witnessed the awareness growing between the two and groaned inwardly. He had no clue on how to deal with the attraction he was witnessing. Dean slept around a lot but he had never looked at anyone the way he was looking at their guest now. He wasn’t at all happy with the fact; there was something about the smaller male that bugged him and he wanted nothing more than to be rid of him. It was something he didn’t think would happen any time soon.