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20 July 2006 @ 08:58 am
I'm Just A Small Boy: Meeting In A Graveyard [2]  

Author: Alyssa Keserra 
Rating: Currently something like PG-13? Definitely going up in the future 
Pairing: Harry/Draco Warning: none yet... except ummm i'm still new to all this so... don't expect the world Summary: A misfired spell. In the enemy's clutches. Nothing is as it seems

[HBP compliant]

Disclaimer: It's all J.K. Rowling's, i'm just borrowing it to twist and maim to my own devious purposes. No worries, she'll get them back in the end.












'Finite Incantem'


He didn't see the spell or the spell caster until it hit him, but he felt it suddenly fill his body, sliding under his skin and before he knew it he was being tossed into the air, his cloak being pulled by the wind causing him to clutch at it. He grabbed onto the only thing he could see with his wand hand, and found himself hanging miles away from the ground with his hand closed around a soft smooth material.


He lifted his right hand to put the cloak between his teeth, than slid his wand into his pocket and swung the hand up to cling on. Taking a deep breath he pulled himself up and tried to climb on to whatever it was he was hanging onto, only to find himself tumbling over the other side of whatever it was he was holding on to. Trying to fight his terror he looked around to establish where he was, and how far the drop was before he fell into a dark abyss as the world began to move. He landed on a soft 'thing' with his cloak still firmly between his teeth. Clasping it around his neck, he pulled out his wand and nervously cast a quiet lumos.


Looking around he found himself in a big black soft 'thing' with a sliver of night sky at the top. He could still hear the battle going on around him, though slightly muffled by his prison, however he realised he couldn't have gone very far. Tentatively holding a hand against one side he stepped forward holding his wand high, then immediately tripping as he realised that the ground wasn't very stable at all. He looked up from the floor to find himself faced by a huge wall of cardboard. Standing up shakily using the box to steady him, he followed the board around and found himself looking at the words 'Chocolate frog' in lettering bigger than his hand.


He found himself staring at the box in horror… this was a joke right? Wrong he realised as he recognised that he was in a pocket. The question of course was whether said pocket belonged to friend or foe.


"The house is empty!"


"Where are the muggles?"


"Where's Potter?"




Apparently it was chaos outside while he was safely or not-so-safely in a pocket. Not wanting to stay put, Harry began to look around for a clue of identity, after all, frogs were common, surely even Death Eaters ate them. Seeing a scroll of parchment he pushed it open  and tried to hold it open as he read it, but then immediately let go as he saw the first few words causing himself to end up wrapped up in a piece of parchment. He looked around, finding himself enclosed on all sides by a painfully familiar script, but more painful were the words written on it.


'I am a Malfoy. Malfoy's do not bow to anyone. I will protect my mother. I am a Malfoy.'

The words looped around him again and again making him dizzy and slightly claustrophobic. He felt his eyes flutter shut as he collapsed against the parchment feeling horror rush through him. With all the adrenaline gone, Harry just wanted to crawl into a bed and sleep. And maybe cry a bit. And then maybe some food. And then some more sleep.


He felt the uncomfortable shifting of a side-along apparition, exactly the same as the last time it had happened with Dumbledore. Dumbledore. Carefully, Harry pulled out his belongings from his pocket and looked around for his Firebolt, before increasing it to his size and getting on. Not wanting to leave the safety… if that's what you could call it, of the pocket he hovered just under the rim and peeked out. He was in a graveyard, typical. The Death Eaters were in a circle; with Voldemort standing imperiously at one end surveying them disdainfully. It should have been intimidating, but the truth of the matter was that Malfoy could have done it better. Malfoy Snr. Or Jnr. Both of them. Either of them. Whatever. Voldemort just looked like a mad 'thing'… that just so happened to be horrifically ugly.


"WHERE IS THE BOY?" Voldemort shouted, his eyes were flaming red and the air around him crackled in his anger sending shooting sparks of pain to Harry's scar, so that he was almost sent tumbling from his broom. "WELL? ANSWER ME YOU FOOLS!"

One of the Death Eaters shuffled slightly and a thick unrecognisable voice said "He wasn't there, Master."


"Wasn't there? Wasn't there? Is this true Severus?" he silkily asked the Death Eater on his right, where Lucius Malfoy usually stood.


"Yes Master, the boy was not in the house and neither were the muggles," Snape answered in an oily voice that made Harry cringe despite everything, Snape was obviously not made to serve anyone.


"Why did we not know of this before? You have failed me."


"Forgive me master, I am no longer able to spy on the light side since the death of Dumbledore and I knew nothing of this."


Harry felt Malfoy stiffen even more, and he could feel the tension leaking out of the body to him via the robe. He took a steep dive as he saw Malfoy's hands slide fall to his side, thinking they were coming into the pocket. When he realised that he was still alone in the pocket, he ventured back up to the brink and peered downwards where Malfoy's pale hand was clenched tightly in to a fist.


"Ah, Young Malfoy." The cold voice burned into Harry's skin like a harsh whip and he backed away from the advancing figure, but what hit him the most was the effect on Malfoy. He hadn't even flinched as the anger had now focused on him, if anything he had stood a bit taller and tilted his chin upwards. A sudden rush of pride flooded through Harry as he realised that Malfoy wasn't going to back down from this, the cowardly 11 year old who ran from this same monster in the forest now replaced by this foreign person facing Voldemort in the dark of night in a graveyard.


"Yes Master?" Malfoy answered clearly, his voice strong and unwavering despite the submission in the words.


"You have caused me much trouble Young Malfoy, you and your entire family have. I often wonder whether its worth keeping you alive," Voldemort's voice was now very quiet as he came closer, making Harry hide lower in the pocket not wanting Voldemort to sense his presence. He could only assume he hadn't already been detected because of his small size, but he didn't really want to change that at this moment in time.


"So beautiful." Voldemort was muttering as soon as he'd pulled off the mask, running a long spindly finger across Malfoy's high cheekbones in an almost caress like action making Malfoy's lips begin to curl into a haughty sneer and Harry to growl quietly in a possessive gesture. No one, but no one was allowed to taunt Malfoy except him. Voldemort's face split into a cruel smile as he suddenly back-handed Malfoy's face, making the blonde flinch just slightly.





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Jhaylinmalfoy_consort on July 20th, 2006 09:12 am (UTC)
Yes, Draco is very beautiful. Lol. I love possesive!Harry.:)
oceans_world on July 20th, 2006 03:39 pm (UTC)

Me too!!!!
Posessive!Harry always comes along with thousands of plot-bunnies...