CHAPTER ONE

Arabella Figg watched as the boy slowly shuffled down the sidewalk in front of her house. She had seen the teen walk the same path, day after day, from dawn until well after dusk. Always the same path, always the same shuffling walk. His head was down, eyes glazed as he watched his own feet, unaware of his surroundings, unaware of any danger he might be in. She sighed sadly, shaking her head before she left the window and approached her fireplace. Pinching a bit of silvery powder from the pot on the mantle, she threw it into the fire, watching with satisfaction as the flames turned emerald green. Sticking her head in the odd flames, she shouted out, "Severus Snape's quarters, Hogwarts." Moments later, a dour visage breached the flames, the ebon eyes sparking with anger.

"What is it, Arabella? I'm in the middle of making the potions to restock the infirmary."

"It's time," she said simply, knowing that the man would understand her. Nodding, eyes flashing with anticipation, the head withdrew. She threw another pinch of powder into the flames. "Lucius Malfoy, Malfoy Manor." The man in question took slightly longer to respond, and Arabella tapped her foot impatiently as she waited.

A blonde head poked into the fire, silver eyes gleaming as he smirked at her. "May I help you, Arabella?" came the smooth, aristocratic voice.

"It's time," she replied. Malfoy nodded imperceptibly, retreating from the flames. One more time, she thought to herself. Tossing a pinch of powder into the flames once again, she shouted out the address. "Tom Riddle, Riddle Manor." The dark head poked through immediately, almost as if the man was waiting for the call. He looked into her eyes and nodded briskly, pulling back from the fireplace without her ever having to utter a single syllable. Sighing heavily, she sat in a wing-backed chair to the right of the fireplace, head bowed almost in prayer. I hope he can finally be happy.

Severus watched from his vantage point, which was an alley a few feet from Number Four, Privet Drive. He spied the teen slowly and painfully drag the trash receptacles to the curb for trash pick-up in the morning, his eyes dead. Ebon orbs narrowed in fury as he caught sight of developing bruises around the boy's neck, and his gaze traveled to his companions, one at a time, trying to gauge whether they had caught sight of the injuries. The furious crimson glare alerted Severus that Tom had, indeed, seen the wounds, and a barely perceptible hiss from his right told him that Lucius had seen, as well.

The moonless night was dark enough to conceal the men in the shadows, but they dared not venture closer, for fear of the streetlamps' illumination revealing them to prying eyes. They watched as the child limped back into the house, and winced at the loud crash that followed. A bellowing voice told the men that, for some inexplicable reason, the boy was being punished. Knowing the muggles as they did, they all assumed that Harry had breathed wrong, thereby earning the beating he was, no doubt, receiving. His muscles tensed in fury, and it took all Severus had not to barge into the nondescript house and curse the muggles into oblivion. He felt Tom's magic reach out to him and Lucius, and comforted himself with the thought that, soon, the boy would be free, and safe.

Harry stumbled his way up the stairs, his ribs aching from the beating he'd received. He wasn't exactly sure what he'd done to earn the blows, but he'd heard Vernon mumble something about not wearing suitable clothing as he followed the teen to his room. Apparently he means clothes that will cover the bruises, the boy thought lethargically as he entered his bedroom, which was more like a prison. He quietly closed the door, wincing as he heard the locks click closed. He sat on his bed and looked at the barely visible face of the battered alarm clock on his bedside table. Nearly midnight, he thought with no discernible excitement or joy. I'll be sixteen soon, for whatever it's worth. He watched with dull eyes as the hands slowly made their way to the number twelve, then sighed heavily as his birthday arrived with no fanfare. He'd failed to make friends at the school, and since his relatives couldn't care less, he had no one to acknowledge this milestone in his life. He lay down in his bed, his eyes dry and heart heavy as he thought of what his life would've been like, had his parents survived Voldemort's attack.

As he lay there, pondering, he never noticed the wisps of smoke that entered his room through the small cracks in his window. He never realized, as he breathed in the airborne sleeping potion, that his life was about to change, and he never thought, as his eyes drifted closed, that he would ever find happiness.

The house lay in total darkness when the men finally approached the drab building. A whispered alohomora opened the locks, and the three crept into the house, casting silencing spells on themselves to ensure that they wouldn't be heard by any of the occupants, and lumos so they could see where they were going. A faint magical signature attracted Tom's attention, and he followed it to a small boot cupboard under the front stairs. He was puzzled by all of the locks adorning the outside of the door to the cubby, and his ruby eyes widened in shocked horror as he opened the portal and spied what was inside the tiny room. Feeling his revulsion, the other two men approached, staring into the small, cramped, darkened hole with matching expressions of rage.

There was a threadbare mattress on the floor in the small space, stained with years of blood and sweat. A thin, ratty towel was the only bedding to be found, and childishly scrawled pictures in crayon adorned the walls. The men felt the years of torment, loneliness, isolation, and shame radiating from the cubby, and their resolve hardened as they turned from the room and advanced up the stairs. They ignored the two rooms at the far end of the hallway at the top of the stairs, turning their attentions, instead, to the door directly to their right. It, too, had multiple locks on the outside of it, and Tom grit his teeth in fury as he carefully and quietly unlocked each one. Lucius noticed the cat flap in the bottom of the door, and called his companions' attentions to it. Knowledge was born in their eyes as they understood the purpose of the little door.

Severus was the first into the bedroom, and he looked at the sleeping boy, heart clenching at the condition of this innocent. There didn't appear to be a single inch of skin that was unmarked with bruise or cut. The child was painfully thin to the point of emaciation, and his eyes rolled restlessly behind closed lids, the twitches and mutters and whimpers alerting the men to the nature of the dreams torturing the boy. Snape stalked forward and, very carefully, gently lifted the boy from the bed. As if, in his deep and drugged sleep, he could sense the intentions of the Potions Master, Harry curled into the chest of the man holding him, snuggling deeply into the man's arms. A smirk curled Riddle's lips as he saw the Potions Master's face soften at the movement. Quietly, the men retreated from the room and the house, but not before casting a series of Dark spells that would make the occupants suffer for the rest of their lives.

Across the street, Arabella Figg watched with tears in her eyes as the men carried away the only hope for the wizarding world, and a prayer of love and safety for the boy stuttered from her lips.

"Are you sure you want to bring him here, Lucius?" Tom asked softly as the three apparated to Malfoy Manor. Harry shifted in his sleep, the uncomfortable feeling of being sucked through a straw impinging on the drugged teen. Severus impulsively kissed Harry's forehead, above the lightning bolt scar, and the boy settled immediately, a soft sigh of contentment escaping his lips.

"I'm sure, my Lord," the blond answered, a gentle smile on his face. "Draco has been telling me of Potter's situation at school; the fact that the child has no friends, and the professors there seem to ignore the obvious signs of abuse. He'd attempted to make friends with Potter, but the boy shied away, almost as if he weren't allowed to have friends. The child even mumbled something about being too ugly and freakish for friends before he bolted. So it would be no hardship to put him up here. In fact, I'd like to formally adopt him, with your permission of course."

"That is an excellent idea, Lucius," Riddle answered. "It would give him the stability of home and the security of love. I'm sure you and your family would come to love him very much, in time."

"That is all well and good," Severus interrupted, "but how do you intend to explain things to him? How will you be able to convince him that it was not you that killed his parents?"

"Those are, indeed, good questions," the Dark Lord replied thoughtfully. "I think it best we deal with them when they come up. I'm sure that we'll be able to prove the truth of things to him."

"If you will come this way, Severus, I will show you to his rooms." Following the elder Malfoy, they ascended the stairs and walked the halls until they came to a room. Taking the boy's hand, Lucius placed it against the door, allowing Harry's magical signature to connect to the Malfoy magics, deeming him welcome. The door glowed briefly before snicking open. They entered the lavish bedroom, and Severus reluctantly placed his precious burden on the bed, which had been turned down by the house elves in preparation for Harry's arrival. Tom waved his wand over the boy, changing his bedraggled clothing for silk pajamas in a shimmering emerald green. Lucius placed several healing potions and bruise balms on the bedside table with a note, before gently carding his hand through the unruly black hair. Harry curled at the feel of the magic on his skin, and his head lifted into the caress, a small purr escaping his throat. Tom pulled the covers over the boy, tucking him in before the men left the room, quietly closing the door.

Shrieks filled the halls, and Draco was up instantly, bolting out of his bedroom at warp speed and sprinting down the hall to Harry's room. The screams were coming from behind the door, and the blond burst through the entrance, stopping dead at the sight before him.

Harry was thrashing wildly in the bed, the screams chilling Draco to the bone. The Malfoy heir thought frantically of what to do; should he alert a house elf, or should he get his father. The thrashing became more violent, and the boy very nearly pitched himself from the bed. Decision made, Draco carefully approached the bed and curled up behind the boy. He wrapped his arms around the thrashing figure, and Harry instantly stilled, whimpering pitifully. With a hand on the brunet's stomach, and the other one on his chest, the blond began to rub soothing circles on the raven's flesh. Harry calmed down after a while, and even snuggled back into the warm body behind him. Sighing softly in relief, Draco tightened his arms around the boy before drifting off to sleep. Moments later, having heard the uproar, the elder Malfoys made it to the raven's door, stopping dead at the sight that greeted their eyes.

There was a soft glow surrounding the boys, and Lucius smiled fondly, looking with excitement at his wife. "It appears we do not need to adopt him after all," he said. "He and our Dragon are soulmates."

Harry gradually awoke, blinking his eyes slowly to clear them of sleep. He lay for a moment, content, before he realized that someone's arms were around him, and someone was curled up against his back. Struggling briefly and waking the other occupant, Harry sat up and scooted away from the other person, nearly falling off the edge of the bed. The other boy reached out quickly and grabbed his wrist, preventing his fall, then quickly let go when Harry started to whimper.

"It's ok, Harry," the blond said softly. "I won't hurt you. Do you remember me? My name is Draco, and I wanted to be your friend. We attend the same classes at Hogwarts." The raven squinted emerald eyes at the fuzzy outline before shrugging helplessly.

"I can't really see you, but I recognize your voice. Why are you in bed with me, and whose bed am I in?" Harry shifted, then winced and hissed as his wounds made themselves known. Quickly, Draco exited the bed and dragged a chair to the bedside, sitting in it and grabbing the first of many potions and lotions on the bedside table.

"We'll answer all your questions soon, Harry. For now, I want you to take this potion, and the rest of these, and I will rub these salves on your cuts and bruises."

"What's this potion for?" the brunet asked curiously. "It smells like cinnamon."

"That's a vision-correction potion. Uncle Severus made it especially for you."

"The professor? But why? I thought the teachers weren't supposed to help me. At least, that's what I was led to believe." The teen tipped his head back, swallowing the spicy potion. He grimaced as it hit his stomach with a thud, then shuddered and clenched his fists, squeezing his eyes closed against the burning pain in them. Tears escaped the lashes and trickled down his cheeks, and a small whimper leaked from his lips before the burning subsided. Harry rubbed his eyes with his fists, looking like a small child, before he blinked his eyes open and stared at the blond in the chair. "You're even prettier without my glasses," he blurted, then blushed. He grinned, however, when the blond blushed just as darkly as he did.

"Thank you," Draco murmured, smiling. He reached for another potion, handing it to the Gryffindor. "This one will mend the broken bones," he said, frowning. "Uncle Sev says that his scans revealed many broken bones and fractures, so you need to take this one now." Harry reached for it, his fingers brushing Draco's. Their magic tingled together, making the boys shiver. The raven quickly downed the potion, flinching and wincing as the broken bones slowly wove back together. Picking up yet another potion, Draco explained that it was an advanced nutrient potion. Sighing irritably, Harry swallowed that one as well, grimacing at the strong medicinal taste of it.

Potion after potion was given to the raven, and he swallowed every one, his patience wearing incredibly thin. Finally, after swallowing the very last potion, Harry huffed in irritation. Granted, he did feel better, but he was still waiting for an explanation of where he was and why he was there. He also wanted to express his gratitude to whoever had rescued him from the beasts charged with his 'care'. Draco, however, had other ideas.

"You need to strip down and lay on your stomach," the blond said matter-of-factly. Harry blushed to the roots of his hair, staring at Draco in horror.

"W-why?" he stammered, shivering. "I mean, well, um...why?" Draco chuckled at the suddenly stammering boy.

"I need to rub these salves into your skin, to heal the cuts, abrasions and bruises. We don't want you to get any kinds of infections, and uncle Sev wants you as comfortable as possible."

"Okay," the brunet said, stripping down to his threadbare skivvies and laying on his stomach. The blond winced at the damage he saw covering the pale skin before him. He opened the jar and very carefully poured some of the salve on Harry's back. The raven jumped as the cool gel hit his skin, and Draco quickly began to spread the salve over the brunet's back, smiling slightly at the pleasurable moan that erupted from the boy on the bed. Draco continued to rub the salve into Harry's injured skin, edging closer and closer to the waistline of his underpants. When the blond's fingers slipped beneath the waistband, Harry yelped like a scalded cat and tried to crawl away from the boy in the chair.

"Stop that, Harry," Draco barked softly, stilling the raven. "I need to get to the injuries beneath your pants." Coloring in shame, Harry buried his face in the pillows as Draco gently slipped the underwear off his unresisting form. The blond couldn't hold in the gasp that escaped him as he spied all the welts, weals, and open wounds littering the brunet's ass. However, he frowned fiercely when he noticed a bit of blood smeared around the crack of Harry's ass; feeling suspicious as to the nature of those injuries, he summoned a house elf to fetch his father and Severus.