Wicked

Many thanks to my lovely readers, voters and reviewers!!!

As yaoiObsessed correctly assumed, Dudley could not stay out of it, of course. See for yourself!

For those who haven´t read the books: Sirius Black is an animagus, meaning a wizard who can transform into an animal. His shape is a large black dog which he uses for disguise; whenever he does, he is being called "Snuffles", as it is nicely inconspicuous! =) Just so as to prevent any confusion.

And now: enjoy!



Dudley Dursley was not a very bright boy. He had however learned early in his life how to manipulate his parents so as to get his will, and he was not used to being refused something.

He enjoyed the benefits this brought him, showing off his superiority over his cousin Harry. Harry never got something new, or sweets, or was being taken out somewhere on special occasions, and Dudley thought it served him right, as he was a freak and had no parents.


This time, however, it was different. Dudley´s parents had sent him out of the room when the strange old man and the shabby looking one had entered the kitchen.
Dudley would have preferred to vamoose anyway, since he could too vividly remember his piggy tail, and these people clearly belonged to the kind of weird guys Harry was living with ever since his eleventh birthday.

He intended to eavesdrop, of course, but for some strange reason he couldn´t hear a thing when he was pressing his ear to the door, as all the sounds seemed muffled. So he didn´t find out what those two had said to his parents, who looked rather sullen afterwards.
His mom even snapped at him, something he hardly ever had experienced before.

He knew something was going on but did not know what exactly, and he hated that. Thus, he was desperate to find out. His father was constantly grumbling about that freak who had dared to intrude their peace, making Dudley even more curious.
Someone seemed to be with Harry, but it was quite silent in his cousin´s room most of the time.

Dudley had woken early from the need to pee, and on his way back from the loo had decided not to wait any longer.
He waddled up to Harry´s door as quietly as possible and pressed his ear to it: nothing could be heard inside.

With great caution he pressed down the handle and opened the door slowly, peering inside: the light was still dim, but the room´s occupants seemed to be asleep.

It was barely five, after all. He wrinkled his nose at the slight smell coming from the owl´s cage, which was currently empty, since Hedwig had not returned from her hunt yet.

Impatiently, Dudley stepped all the way inside and gaped when he realized that the bed was much larger than before.
But his jaw really dropped when he saw the blond boy sleeping next to Harry. Dudley neither noticed how ill he looked nor how thin he was; all he saw was that Harry had his arm around him and that they had snuggled up against each other.

He gasped audibly, for he could not imagine why his parents allowed this. His gasp caused Draco to flinch and open his eyes.
Being startled out of sleep like this was he not fully awake yet; unfortunately, Dudley had chosen exactly this moment to lean over him in order to have a closer look at him.

Having reached the size of a walrus, he was an alarming sight anyway, and right now he was wearing black pajamas with little pirate skulls on them.

All Draco saw was a massive dark form hovering above him. It was enough to make him scream.

Harry darted up, startled and befuddled from the sudden interruption of his peaceful slumber and unable to see clearly since his glasses were lying on the nightstand.

Draco was cowering next to him, trembling all over, and staring at Dudley wide-eyed, who had screamed as well and tripped over while backing away, landing heavily on his rear.

The next thing Harry new was that his uncle stormed in, his face dark red with rage.

He didn´t even stop to assess the situation but crossed the room and hauled Draco out of the bed by his neck, shaking the boy: “You insolent little twerp,” he growled, fury evident in his contorted features, “I knew you were going to be trouble, no matter what that old madman said!”

Harry had meanwhile lunged for his glasses, unable to believe that this was happening. His uncle was jerking Draco around as if he were a ragdoll, the blond´s face a mask of horror and pain, while Aunt Petunia was trying to help “Duddykins” up, anxiously stroking his hair and looking for any damage he might have sustained.

Harry jumped to his feet: “Leave him be,” he shouted, trying to prevent his uncle from hurting Draco further by attempting to grab Vernon´s free arm, “he didn´t do anything, it was Dudley who-“

Without further ado, Dursley dealt Harry a blow to his temple, an odd mixture between a punch and a slap, but it sent Harry to the ground and his glasses flying nevertheless.

Harry gasped, not only from the pain; never before had his uncle hit him. It seemed that something had snapped within the man, who now slammed Draco against the wall.

The blond boy cried out in pain as his numerous wounds were being aggravated, but Vernon ignored this: “You are nothing but a freak, boy, and to have the nerve to come here and bother my family with your presence! It´s enough that we have to deal with Harry, we don´t need any more of your barmy lot!” he hissed, each word dripping with venom.

Harry, even though his head was reeling, scrambled to his feet and over to his nightstand; he yanked open the drawer and grabbed his wand.


Turning around, he aimed at his uncle, determination radiating from him despite the fact that he couldn´t see much without his glasses: “Let go of him!” he said quietly but with a threatening undertone.

His uncle paused: “Don´t you dare, boy,” he snapped, “I know that you´re not allowed to do that!”

Harry shrugged, never backing off: “I don´t care,” he hissed, “for all I know, you are not allowed to do that either!”


Right then, a loud crack had all of them flinch, and a moment later, Mundungus Fletcher was standing in the room, his wand drawn.
Within seconds he took in Harry´s combat-ready posture and the way the fat man in the pajamas was gripping the shaking Draco, and did not hesitate, aiming his wand at Vernon as well: “Better let go of him,” he drawled.

Vernon gave a disbelieving snort, but now Petunia squealed: “Vernon! Think of what they did to Duddy!” Slowly, the beefy man released his grip and shoved Draco away from him.

As soon as Draco was out of the firing line, Fletcher silently cast a spell, and Vernon froze, unable to move anymore, at which Petunia gave a shriek.


Ignoring her, Harry exhaled, only now realizing how tense he was: “Thank you,” he breathed. “How did you know-“ “Notification charm,” Fletcher said. “Dumbledore has cast it in case someone broke in here.”

Harry had meanwhile found his glasses and put them on, then he made his way over to Draco.

He could feel himself swaying slightly, due to the blow to his head, but Draco was off much worse, judging from the looks of it.

He had curled up into a ball and winced visibly when Harry gently touched his shoulder: “Draco,” he soothed, “it´s Harry... it´s all right, he can´t hurt you anymore...”

Draco was shaking badly and did not respond. Alarmed, Harry noticed that there was blood pooling underneath him; his wounds seemed to have reopened due to the harsh treatment the boy had suffered.

Harry glowered at his uncle, who was still immobilized, and turned to Mundungus Fletcher: “We need Madam Pomfrey,” he said urgently, “quickly.”

Again his room was being crowded by people plus a large black dog. Harry was happy to see Snuffles; Sirius had wanted to make sure Harry was okay himself this time, thus Dumbledore had agreed to side-along apparition with the animagus.
Hedwig, who had meanwhile come back from her outing, eyed the dog suspiciously before tucking her head into her feathers. Harry was sure she was not sleeping yet but listening attentively.

Madam Pomfrey had levitated Draco onto the bed and had cast a spell which had produced a hospital curtain, so that she could tend to her patient with a little privacy.


Harry was sitting on his desk and pressing a bag of frozen peas to his throbbing temple while he was waiting. He had already told the headmaster what had happened, and Remus along with Fletcher had levitated Vernon downstairs, where Dumbledore and Sirius were currently dealing with him in the living room. Petunia and Dudley were sitting in the kitchen, guarded by Tonks who had accompanied the group this time.

“I certainly would not have expected something like this to happen, Harry,” Dumbledore had said gravely. “And I still regard my decision to keep Mr Malfoy here with as the right thing to do. It seems I will have to make myself a little clearer though, concerning your relatives.”

Sirius, who had transformed into his human form, had given a low growl at this: “I´ll be having a word or two with him as well,” he said. “I have wanted to do that ever since I first heard of them.”
“Now, now,” Dumbledore had said, “we don´t want to be scaring him too much, I do not expect that to be helpful. You better not make it sound like a threat.”

To Harry however, Sirius´ words had sounded like a promise.

Every now and then he could hear pained sounds from behind the curtain, followed by Madam Pomfrey´s reassuring voice.

When Dumbledore, Remus and Sirius returned, Harry saw a kind of grim satisfaction on his godfather´s face: “It will be all right,” Sirius growled, “or else.” He did not continue, but that was unnecessary anway.

The headmaster now cleared his throat: “Your uncle will not interfere again,” he told Harry in a quiet voice, “nor will your cousin. I furthermore have had a word with Petunia, regarding... provisions. She will make sure that you and Mr Malfoy will get proper nourishment and whatever is needed otherwise.”

Sirius still looked angry: “It´s what he should get anyway,” he fumed, “and not only because of an incident such as this! If only I had known how insufferable these people are!”
It was silent for a moment; to Harry it seemed as if a collective sigh was bearing down on them.

“There is nothing else we can do about it now,” Dumbledore said and raised his hand when Sirius opened his mouth to object, “you know that.”

Huffing frustratedly, Sirius crossed his arms, but did not speak anymore.

“How are you feeling, Harry?” Remus now asked kindly.

Harry lowered his hand and touched the sore skin on his temple with the other: “I´ll be okay,” he said, even though his vision was slightly blurry and he felt queasy.

“You don´t look okay,” Sirius said, stepping up to his godson and pulling him into a one-armed hug. Harry leaned against him, feeling his strong heartbeat, and for once was glad not to have to be strong anymore.

Only now did he fully realize what had just happened, and he sagged against the man, suddenly shaking: “He hit me! I nearly used magic against him,” he mumbled. “I didn´t know what else to do... he was hurting Draco. And he hit me...”

Sirius took the bag of peas from him and put it down on the table, then he wrapped his other arm around Harry as well, pulling him close to make him feel secure: “It´s okay, pup,” he said, sensing the boy´s distress. “He won´t do it again. And you did well; it´s a natural instinct to use your magic, and you know how to defend yourself. I am proud of you.”

Harry closed his eyes: he could hear Sirius´ voice reverberate through his chest as he continued to soothe the boy, telling him that Vernon would never hit him again, as he had made sure of that, and that Harry was safe now.

Harry wished he would stay. Ever since he had first come to Hogwarts had he experienced kindness from various people, but Sirius came closest to what it felt like having a father.

Draco had been so agitated and frightened that Madam Pomfrey had resolved to sedating him.

Her own hands were shaking as she cared for him; for all she knew, Dursley would have killed Draco had Fletcher not interrupted.
The lash marks on his back as well as his inner injuries had reopened and were bleeding when she had arrived; the skin on his neck was scratched, reddened and swollen from the man´s grip, and Mr Malfoy was sobbing and shaking violently, too terrified to uncurl or even look at her.

He was now resting calmly under the forced ease the sedative was putting him into, not sleeping yet. Madam Pomfrey stroked his temple: “Go to sleep, love,” she murmured. “It will do you good.”

As soon as she vanished the curtain did Sirius transfer back into the large black dog, an unpleasant reminder that Draco was not supposed to see him.

Madam Pomfrey tended to Harry first, applying a cooling salve to his temple and examining his eyes with her illuminated wand: “You have a slight concussion, dear,” she concluded after Harry had admitted that his vision was slightly blurry and he was feeling a little nauseous. “You better lie down as well and stay in bed today.”

She paused and continued in a very low voice: “Are you quite all right, love?” she asked gently. Harry could have wept again from the compassion in her features, but he forced himself to give her a small smile: “I will be,” he whispered.
The Healer quickly stroked over the brave boy´s cheek, bracing herself, then turned to Dumbledore.

It was agreed that Madam Pomfrey would stay with the boys for a while, since she was worried what would happen once the sedative wore off. Snuffles whimpered at this, wanting to stay as well, but Dumbledore shook his head: “You know how dangerous it is,” he sighed. “It is already very risky that you came here at all.”

The dog´s ears drooped at this, but he remained silent. He and Harry exchanged an understanding look before Madam Pomfrey ushered the boy back to bed. “Where is your blanket?” she asked. Harry shrugged: “Draco has it. I have used my cloak.”
“Oh dear,” she breathed, “I hadn´t thought... I am sorry.” She raised her wand and summoned another blanket from her bag, then she tucked Harry in.


After Dumbledore, Remus and Snuffles had left, it became very silent in the house. No one could be heard downstairs, but Harry did not care if his relatives were petrified or simply rigid with fury, all that mattered was that things were going to go back to normal, or what came closest.

Madam Pomfrey however looked at her watch: “I am going to make some breakfast for you, dear,” she said. Harry nodded cautiously, for his head really hurt now; when the Healer had left the room, he turned to look at Draco, whose breathing was slowly evening out as he was falling asleep.

His face still looked ashen, and Harry felt ashamed for his oafish cousin and his uncle with his mindless brutality. In a way, they were not a whit better than the people who had mistreated Draco first.

To Be Continued...