Born in Frustration
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Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
32
Views:
34,065
Reviews:
217
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
32
Views:
34,065
Reviews:
217
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
A Very Un-Dursley Morning
Sorry kittens, but this is a short chapter, I've got to switch to Draco's POV, for reasons which will be obvious when the next chapter is posted.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~Chapter Eight: A Very Un-Dursley Morning~
Harry rolled over, squinting at the morning sun shining through his window onto his sleepy face. Stretching, he grimaced at the stiffness in his muscles. Slowly, the memories of the previous evening came back to him. He blinked his eyes several times, thinking he had had a very odd dream. Why would he dream about Draco Malfoy? He shook his head at the thought, snuggling down into the soft sheets…
‘Soft sheets?’
Harry sat up quickly, looking around the room, trying to clear his mind. He reached over to the desk beside his bed for his glasses, knocking over several potion bottles in the process. Harry found his glasses and slid them carefully onto his face, looking at the potions now lying haphazardly on the floor.
‘So, it wasn’t a dream.’
Harry pushed the sheets aside, throwing his legs over the bed. Glancing down at the pyjamas he wore, he blushed slightly. ‘Draco’s pyjamas,’ he thought. Harry closed his eyes, remembering what Draco had told him about the potions.
‘Green one once a day, purple twice.’
He bent down and picked up the bottles that had fallen on the floor, placing them carefully with the others on the desk. Harry grabbed a green one, holding it up to the light. There didn’t seem to be anything mysterious in the vial so he popped the top and downed it quickly. The taste was bitter, but not unpleasant. He took one of the purple potions and repeated his actions.
Rubbing his eyes, he glanced around the room. In front of the cat flap in his bedroom door, Harry was surprised to see a tray of food. Real food! He almost danced with excitement.
He leapt from the bed and practically ran across the room, skidding to a halt beside the tray. His first thought was that he might be hallucinating; the Dursley’s had never given him food that wasn’t burnt leftovers, cold soup or past the expiration date before. With trepidation he reached out and touched the bowl of cereal before him – the delicate china bowl cereal placed right next to the perfectly ripe banana and chilled glass of orange juice. Smiling broadly, Harry picked up the tray and took it back to his desk. Sitting down, Harry grabbed the spoon and began eating the cold cereal, happy to actually have breakfast.
Harry again ate slowly, remembering Draco telling him to last night, so as not to upset his neglected tummy. Harry didn’t care why the Dursleys had decided to feed him this morning; he was just content that, for once, he could do his chores without a rumbling belly or dizzy spells.
As he was eating, he noticed a note sitting on his desk. Harry picked it up and read as he ate. The note was from Draco, reminding him to take his potions. Harry rolled his eyes. The note also said that Draco would be coming back today. Harry was a bit surprised, but he found himself oddly looking forward to the other boy’s return. He finished his cereal and juice, but was too full to eat the banana, so he put it aside for later, just in case this was all some horrid mistake.
Standing up, Harry stretched. Out of the corner of his eye he saw clothes that Draco must have left for him. He let out a delighted gasp as he picked up the soft shirt and rubbed the smooth material between his fingers. It was obviously expensive and the trousers were equally as nice and just as soft.
Harry wrinkled his nose in confusion. ‘Why would Malfoy leave me clothes? More importantly, why would Malfoy leave me such nice clothes?’
Shrugging his shoulders in defeat, as the answers obviously weren’t coming, he went to his wardrobe, pulled out a clean pair of pants and dressed in the soft garments Draco had left. They were still a bit too big, though not nearly as much as Dudley’s old cast offs, and they were far more comfortable.
Dressed and quite happy with the new clothes, Harry made up his bed, being careful to cover the clean sheets, not wanting Aunt Petunia to see them. Then he sat down on the edge of the bed and waited for his aunt. And waited and waited and waited….
Petunia Dursley cautiously entered Harry’s bedroom well into the morning. Upon seeing that the vicious stranger from last night wasn’t there, she gained a bit more confidence and sniffed haughtily, nose in the air. Marching across the room, she grabbed the tray and made to leave.
She paused at the door however, turning and speaking, “You may use the bath and clean up. We have decided not to lock your door. However, you are not to speak to any of us and you will stay out of our sight.” She made a face of disgust at the prospect of conversation with her nephew, and turned away quickly, leaving Harry sitting on his bed, completely shocked.
“Wow,” Harry said aloud. He thought perhaps he really was dreaming. Thinking he should pinch himself just to make sure.
All this was pushed aside, however, as Harry had an overwhelming desire for running water, shampoo and his toothbrush. It had been so long since he had enjoyed a hot shower. He very quickly got up, practically running out of his room for the bath.
In the hall, Harry ran into Dudley. Dudley jumped as much as his ponderous weight allowed and glared at Harry. Then, as if just realising he had seen a ghost, Dudley turned round and ran back down the stairs as fast as his feet could carry him. Harry stared after his rotund cousin, vaguely thinking that the stairs sounded as if they were about to collapse. He had no idea what had gotten into the Dursleys, but he suspected it had something to do with Draco Malfoy. Right now though, he didn’t care to think about it. The shower was calling him.
Returning to his room, hair damp but smelling nice for a change and teeth happily removed of their fuzzy coating, Harry felt content for the first time in weeks. Wishing not to press his luck, he decided to comply with his aunt’s request to stay out of the Dursleys’ way and went to lie down on his bed. After so many days with too little food and too much abuse, the exertion of showering and eating had left Harry feeling sleepy. He closed his eyes, thinking this had been a very un-Dursley morning. Grateful for the reprieve, Harry sighed and immediately drifted off.
Some time later, Harry woke with a fright to a loud crack…
“Malfoy?’ he asked, turning his head towards the sound.
“Potter.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~Chapter Eight: A Very Un-Dursley Morning~
Harry rolled over, squinting at the morning sun shining through his window onto his sleepy face. Stretching, he grimaced at the stiffness in his muscles. Slowly, the memories of the previous evening came back to him. He blinked his eyes several times, thinking he had had a very odd dream. Why would he dream about Draco Malfoy? He shook his head at the thought, snuggling down into the soft sheets…
‘Soft sheets?’
Harry sat up quickly, looking around the room, trying to clear his mind. He reached over to the desk beside his bed for his glasses, knocking over several potion bottles in the process. Harry found his glasses and slid them carefully onto his face, looking at the potions now lying haphazardly on the floor.
‘So, it wasn’t a dream.’
Harry pushed the sheets aside, throwing his legs over the bed. Glancing down at the pyjamas he wore, he blushed slightly. ‘Draco’s pyjamas,’ he thought. Harry closed his eyes, remembering what Draco had told him about the potions.
‘Green one once a day, purple twice.’
He bent down and picked up the bottles that had fallen on the floor, placing them carefully with the others on the desk. Harry grabbed a green one, holding it up to the light. There didn’t seem to be anything mysterious in the vial so he popped the top and downed it quickly. The taste was bitter, but not unpleasant. He took one of the purple potions and repeated his actions.
Rubbing his eyes, he glanced around the room. In front of the cat flap in his bedroom door, Harry was surprised to see a tray of food. Real food! He almost danced with excitement.
He leapt from the bed and practically ran across the room, skidding to a halt beside the tray. His first thought was that he might be hallucinating; the Dursley’s had never given him food that wasn’t burnt leftovers, cold soup or past the expiration date before. With trepidation he reached out and touched the bowl of cereal before him – the delicate china bowl cereal placed right next to the perfectly ripe banana and chilled glass of orange juice. Smiling broadly, Harry picked up the tray and took it back to his desk. Sitting down, Harry grabbed the spoon and began eating the cold cereal, happy to actually have breakfast.
Harry again ate slowly, remembering Draco telling him to last night, so as not to upset his neglected tummy. Harry didn’t care why the Dursleys had decided to feed him this morning; he was just content that, for once, he could do his chores without a rumbling belly or dizzy spells.
As he was eating, he noticed a note sitting on his desk. Harry picked it up and read as he ate. The note was from Draco, reminding him to take his potions. Harry rolled his eyes. The note also said that Draco would be coming back today. Harry was a bit surprised, but he found himself oddly looking forward to the other boy’s return. He finished his cereal and juice, but was too full to eat the banana, so he put it aside for later, just in case this was all some horrid mistake.
Standing up, Harry stretched. Out of the corner of his eye he saw clothes that Draco must have left for him. He let out a delighted gasp as he picked up the soft shirt and rubbed the smooth material between his fingers. It was obviously expensive and the trousers were equally as nice and just as soft.
Harry wrinkled his nose in confusion. ‘Why would Malfoy leave me clothes? More importantly, why would Malfoy leave me such nice clothes?’
Shrugging his shoulders in defeat, as the answers obviously weren’t coming, he went to his wardrobe, pulled out a clean pair of pants and dressed in the soft garments Draco had left. They were still a bit too big, though not nearly as much as Dudley’s old cast offs, and they were far more comfortable.
Dressed and quite happy with the new clothes, Harry made up his bed, being careful to cover the clean sheets, not wanting Aunt Petunia to see them. Then he sat down on the edge of the bed and waited for his aunt. And waited and waited and waited….
Petunia Dursley cautiously entered Harry’s bedroom well into the morning. Upon seeing that the vicious stranger from last night wasn’t there, she gained a bit more confidence and sniffed haughtily, nose in the air. Marching across the room, she grabbed the tray and made to leave.
She paused at the door however, turning and speaking, “You may use the bath and clean up. We have decided not to lock your door. However, you are not to speak to any of us and you will stay out of our sight.” She made a face of disgust at the prospect of conversation with her nephew, and turned away quickly, leaving Harry sitting on his bed, completely shocked.
“Wow,” Harry said aloud. He thought perhaps he really was dreaming. Thinking he should pinch himself just to make sure.
All this was pushed aside, however, as Harry had an overwhelming desire for running water, shampoo and his toothbrush. It had been so long since he had enjoyed a hot shower. He very quickly got up, practically running out of his room for the bath.
In the hall, Harry ran into Dudley. Dudley jumped as much as his ponderous weight allowed and glared at Harry. Then, as if just realising he had seen a ghost, Dudley turned round and ran back down the stairs as fast as his feet could carry him. Harry stared after his rotund cousin, vaguely thinking that the stairs sounded as if they were about to collapse. He had no idea what had gotten into the Dursleys, but he suspected it had something to do with Draco Malfoy. Right now though, he didn’t care to think about it. The shower was calling him.
Returning to his room, hair damp but smelling nice for a change and teeth happily removed of their fuzzy coating, Harry felt content for the first time in weeks. Wishing not to press his luck, he decided to comply with his aunt’s request to stay out of the Dursleys’ way and went to lie down on his bed. After so many days with too little food and too much abuse, the exertion of showering and eating had left Harry feeling sleepy. He closed his eyes, thinking this had been a very un-Dursley morning. Grateful for the reprieve, Harry sighed and immediately drifted off.
Some time later, Harry woke with a fright to a loud crack…
“Malfoy?’ he asked, turning his head towards the sound.
“Potter.”