Under Your Spell

Under Your Spell

That Was My Place

By the Empress of the Eclipse

Disclaimer - JK Rowling and Bloomsbury own Harry Potter but if they aren't going to publish any more, they ought to give it to us people who will actually write about it! *sends begging letter to JK* The titles of the fic and chapter belong to Joss Whedon's Musical Episode of Buffy (so anyone who's listened to any of "Under Your Spell" might have a few ideas of what's coming...)

DRACO/HARRY! (well, eventually).

This begins in the summer holiday of their sixth year (as in, their seventh year is about to start.)

~~~

Harry woke up feeling very cold, very stiff and quite damp. For a moment he was extremely confused by these sensations, then remembered that he was currently lying on a hotel balcony deckchair in his pyjamas at some ungodly hour in the morning. Sitting up and trying to ignore the pain going up and down his spine, he looked at his watch. Quarter past seven. Wonderful.

He looked over at the glass doors, mercifully covered by curtains and considered his options. It was probably inadvisable to go into that room until invited. The visions that he could risked encountering would probably scar him for life.

Harry had known that a trip to London with the Dursleys and Dudley's new girlfriend could only end in disaster. Dudley had begged his parents to take him and Danielle Walton (the said girlfriend's name) on a trip and naturally they hadn't refused. They'd tried to leave Harry behind but no one had been able to take care of him for so long and the Dursleys weren't leaving him alone in the house for a week. So Harry had spent a very uncomfortable few hours huddled in the back of the car listening to Danielle suck up to Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia and worried deeply about how badly wrong this could all go. For a start, Danielle was extremely annoying with a whiny voice and annoying attitude. Then there was the fact that he was actually going somewhere with the Dursleys, something that had never ended well yet. And then there was the fact that he was going to be desperately trying to keep the fact that he was a wizard secret from her. He had a feeling Danielle's reaction would be like the Dursleys, only more so. Plus letting her find out would be breaking wizarding law, not something Harry wanted to do not something Harry wanted to do when he was so close to getting his NEWT's and becoming a fully qualified wizard and finally being able to escape the Dursleys forever.

His worries hadn't lessened once they'd arrived at the hotel. Harry and Dudley were supposed to share a room (which NEVER went down well with either boy) and Danielle had her own smaller one across the hall. Only she and Dudley had other plans. So just as Harry had been settling down for a nice long sleep, Harry had been kicked out of bed by Dudley and forced onto the balcony without so much as a pillow to wait until he and Danielle were "finished". Why they couldn't have used Danielle's room for whatever they were doing (Harry was trying not to think about it) was a mystery to Harry but there was nothing that he could say about it as Dudley had already drawn the curtains and locked the door. Hence the reason behind Harry had sleeping on the balcony deckchair in a huddled ball for the past four nights. He'd finally managed to steal himself a pillow but Dudley kept taking all the blankets back, meaning that Harry was always far too cold.

Harry stretched his creaking joints and daydreamed about sending an owl to Sirius and getting his Godfather to pay a visit. He could just imagine Danielle's reaction to a gigantic black dog. She was just the type to be afraid of dogs, especially really big ones. Maybe Sirius could pretend to be a real Grim and scare all of the Dursleys into thinking they were dying. That would be highly amusing.

Just as Harry was reaching a particularly emotive point in his daydream where Dudley begged for forgiveness before Sirius changed back into human and used the Furnunculus Curse on him, the balcony door opened.

"What are you doing out here, boy?"

Uncle Vernon. Harry looked over his shoulder and saw Dudley, dressed and looking extremely innocent. Obviously Danielle had left but Dudley had thought it would be fun to leave Harry shivering on a balcony. Harry tried not to scowl at him and stared at Uncle Vernon.

"Looking at the beautiful view," he said, waving his hand vaguely behind him.

Uncle Vernon gave him a very suspicious look.

"Get dressed!" he snapped eventually "We're going to the museum!"

Harry gaped at him, wondering if someone had put the Imperius Curse on Uncle Vernon while he hadn't been looking. Dudley hated museums. Uncle Vernon hated museums. Why on earth where they going to one?

Still, Harry was too tired and cold to ask why. He gratefully went into the warmth of the hotel room and dressed quickly, going down to the lobby where the Dursleys and Danielle were waiting. She blanked him totally which Harry was rather glad about.

It turned out the museum trip was part of the hotel tour and nobody else seemed to really want to go on it either. The museum seemed to be of art and Harry could practically feel his brain cells dying as the tour guide droned on and on and on. He'd never exactly understood the desire to learn about art and this art was rather confusing because he kept being surprised that it wasn't moving. At least moving portraits had the amusement value of seeing what they would say to you. His only comfort was that it was clear that Dudley was even more bored that he was and practically falling asleep on his feet.

They were about half way through an especially dull room of religious pictures when Harry suddenly felt chills go up and down his spine. Someone was looking at him. Nervous, Harry looked around his tour, then at the other people in the room. His eyes fixed on the other end of the room where a blond figure was staring at him, face puzzled.

Harry felt his stomach lurch with horror.

Draco Malfoy.

Oh God. What was Malfoy doing in a Muggle art gallery? In Muggle clothes? (rather expensive looking black trousers and top) And why did he have to be in the one that Harry happened to be in?

Malfoy was still staring at him with a puzzled air, obviously trying to identify him. Then his eyes suddenly lit up with gleeful recognition and he began to smirk. Harry quickly turned away and edged even further away from the Dursleys. If Malfoy came over to speak to him, he wanted to be as far away from Uncle Vernon as possible.

But Malfoy didn't seem to want to speak to them. He deliberately walked quite close to them and bumped Harry sharply with his shoulder but said nothing. Harry resisted the urge to say anything either. He could not get involved with anything with the Dursleys around. This holiday was getting increasingly worse. Sleeping on a balcony, listening to Danielle twitter on and now Malfoy was wandering about. Just perfect.

And if Draco Malfoy was there....

Harry spent the rest of the morning worrying about what would happen if the Dursleys ever came into contact with the Malfoy family. Each scenario was more spectacular than the last. Just as he was imaging one where Uncle Vernon punched Lucius Malfoy in the nose and Lucius Malfoy turned Uncle Vernon into a slug, Uncle Vernon gave him a sharp poke.

"Wake up!" he snapped "We're going down to the restaurant now! You go and wash your hands first, you look like you've been mud-wrestling!"
Ignoring Dudley and Danielle's giggles, Harry nodded assent and walked off, trying to find the nearest bathroom. It was empty when he walked in and Harry washed his hands, trying to remember how many more days it was before he went back to Hogwarts.

Behind him, the door opened and much to Harry's consternation, Draco Malfoy's face appeared in the mirror.

"Well, well, well," he sneered "Harry Potter. What a surprise to meet you here."

"More surprised to meet you," Harry retorted "I thought your precious pure-blood family didn't like Muggle things."

"We don't," Malfoy replied "But art....that's different."
"Whatever," Harry muttered. His nerves were already frayed by the lack of proper sleep and worry and he knew that if he kept talking to Malfoy, they were bound to end up in a fist fight. Which wasn't what he wanted. He tried to move out of the door but Malfoy stepped in his way.

"What's the rush?" he asked "I thought we could use this opportunity to have a friendly chat."

"The day I chat with you Malfoy, is the day that hell turns into a puppy farm," Harry snapped "And the day we have a friendly chat is when Voldemort goes down and starts buying the puppies. Now get out of my way!"

Malfoy shoved him roughly backwards. Harry staggered, then glared at him.

"I'm warning you Malfoy," he hissed "If you don't get the hell out of my way right now - "

"Now, now," a lazy voice purred from behind him "There's no need for that attitude."

Harry swallowed before turning round. Lucius Malfoy was standing there, smirking at him. He was wearing his usual wizarding robes and holding his wand-stick with it's snake's head in one hand. He'd obviously Apparated there while Harry had been squabbling with Draco.

"What do you want?" Harry asked rudely, trying to calm his thudding heart. He edged sideways a little, trying to get out of the line of fire and bumped into the sinks. Draco was smirking even more unpleasantly now, watching as his father stepped towards Harry, tapping his wand-stick idly against his leg.

"Why does everyone always assume that I want something?" Lucius asked, his voice gently mocking "I would almost be offended if it wasn't blatantly obvious that you were brought up in a house with no class whatsoever and therefore can be excused all lack of manners."

Harry flushed, acutely aware of Dudley's second hand too-large shirt and trousers that swamped his body. He found himself almost wanting to defend the Dursleys but couldn't think of anything to say and therefore said nothing, just glared at Lucius.

"Besides," Lucius continued "It's not particularly what I want. More what my Lord wants."

Harry felt ice trickle down his spine. Voldemort. He'd thought that he was protected from Voldemort while he was with the Dursleys but perhaps that didn't extend to the Malfoy family or something. Or maybe....who knew? Whatever the facts of the matter were, he was in trouble.

He pressed backwards against the sink as Lucius took a step towards him.

"And my Lord," Lucius continued "wants you. Oh not dead - don't worry about that. No, we've had a much better idea of what to do with you. Now if you are a good boy, this won't hurt a bit. If you are a bad boy - well, it will hurt a lot."

"Uncle Vernon!" Harry shouted "Uncle Vernon!"

Panicked, he was reaching out for the only thing that as constant in the Muggle world - the Dursleys. While in theory he knew that Uncle Vernon couldn't do anything against the Malfoys, he was somehow sure that Lucius Malfoy wouldn't do anything to him if there was a witness present.

"Do you really think that those pathetic Muggles can do anything for you?" Lucius asked, stepping closer "They don't care about you. No one cares about you."

"That's a lie!" Harry spat "People care about me!"

"Perhaps," Lucius said, smiling malevolently "But they aren't here."

"UNCLE VERNON!" Harry yelled again. Frantic, he tried to leap aside away from Lucius. He crashed into Draco, who shoved him violently aside. Harry's head cracked against the sink and he slid to the floor, seeing stars.

"Crucio!"

Harry screamed in agony, writhing at Lucius's feet as a thousand knives of pain jabbed into his body and tore at his skin. Why was no one coming, couldn't they hear this outside? Couldn't anyone hear his pain?

The pain suddenly stopped, leaving Harry with just the dull ache of left-over torment. He could hear Draco laughing softly and unpleasantly from somewhere nearby.

"Did that hurt Mr Potter?" Lucius murmured from somewhere far above him "Was that painful?"

"No, it just tickled a little," Harry croaked, trying to scrabble to his feet. Lucius laughed and knelt beside him grabbing a handful of his hair.
"No one can hear you," he whispered "Silencing spells over large places are so useful, even if they only last for a short time - but we shall be gone before it runs out, never fear."

"Let me go!" Harry gasped, trying to wrench his hair out of Lucius's hands "Let go of me!"

Lucius smiled sneeringly. He dropped his hand from Harry's hair to the nape of Harry's neck, gripped it tightly and slammed Harry's head into the side of the sink. Harry dimly felt blood running down his head, then sank into unconsciousness.

* * * *

Light was pounding on his closed eyelids. He didn't try to open them. If it felt this bad with them closed, he didn't want to think about what they would be like open. His head was throbbing rhythmically and he thought that he might be sick. It was hard to concentrate on one thought. Things kept slipping in and out of his mind like water through a sieve. He hurt.

"You see my Lord? He is here."

"I can see that Lucius. Now what are you going to do with him?"

That voice...it was important. He had to open his eyes, had to concentrate, had to think.

He moaned and tried to struggle upright and open his eyes. A cold hand instantly pushed him back.

"Ah, ah, ah. No Mr Potter, not just yet I don't think. Drink this, come on."

He obediently gulped back whatever was in the mug held at his lips, too confused and dizzy to even think of resisting. His body instantly felt much heavier and the pounding light fell away, letting him slip back into oblivion.

* * * *

When consciousness finally returned again, he was able to open his eyes with only the pain of eyes that had been in darkness for a long time. He was staring at a dark wine-red canopy that hung over his head, coming down in thick velvet curtains that were tied back with golden cords. A man sat beside his bed, long blond hair tied back in a ponytail, grey eyes watching his face intently.

"Ah Mr Potter. You finally returned to the land of the living," he said.

"Potter? Is that my name?"

The man frowned.

"Yes, of course it is. What sort of game are you playing?"

"I...I don't remember my name. I don't remember you. I don't know where I am. What's happening?"

He stared desperately at the strange man, fighting a dark fog that seemed to be swamping his mind. The man stared at him for a moment, looking confused. Then a slow smile spread across his face.

"I'm Lucius Malfoy," he said, voice taking on a much more gentle tone "Your name is Harry Potter. You've been living in my house for the past year. Don't you remember?"

"No," Harry said slowly, his voice beginning to rise in pitch "No I don't. It's...it's so confusing, my head hurts. What happened? Why can't I remember anything?"

"Just relax Harry," Lucius said soothingly, reaching out and touching Harry's face gently "Don't you worry about a thing. I'll take care of it all. You can trust me."

Harry stared at him with wide confused eyes but nodded his head obediently. Lucius smiled.

"Good," he said "Now why don't you relax while I have something fetched for you to eat."
Harry nodded again, trying to breathe deeply and calmly. It was hard. He was scared stiff. He knew that the memories were in his mind but every time that he reached for them, they slipped away behind the black glassy shield that seemed to encompass his brain. It was a horrible feeling and it terrified him. Lucius smiled again in a reassuring way and patted his arm lightly.

"Don't get out of bed," he said "Stay here."
He walked out of the room, clicking the door closed. Harry disobeyed him instantly, scrambling out of the bed and looking down at himself. He was wearing a long baggy shirt and boxers. Knobbly knees showed beneath the shirt, along with pale legs. The room was grand and Harry felt extremely out of place. Was this really where he belonged? With that strange beautiful aristocratic man and these strange beautiful things? How could that be? How was any of this possible?

He walked over to the wardrobe and opened it, peering inside. There were no clothes that he could see. The only things in it were piles of bedding on shelves at the top. There was a full length mirror on the door and Harry stared at himself in it. His eyes were bright green, gleaming behind dirty, sellotaped glasses. On his forehead was a thin scar, shaped like a bolt of lightning. His hair was sticking up all over the place and when Harry touched it, it felt strangely matted, as though something had stuck all over it like water or blood. The back of his head was extremely sensitive to touch and felt raw. His reflection looked small and pale and scared and completely out of place.

This couldn't be where he belonged.

Unable to bear his reflection any more, Harry closed the wardrobe and looked around again. Was this his bedroom? There was nothing in it. He knew that bedrooms were supposed to have more in than this. There should be something personal that showed who he was. Who was he? Who were his family? What was he like? He was so confused, he didn't understand any of this. What was he going to do?

He walked over to the window and stared out of it, down at the most amazing grounds. Neat green hedges that lined perfectly swept paths and great green lawns.

Harry rested his head against the glass and once again reached back into his brain for his memories. The black fog slipped over them instantly and Harry moaned deep in his throat, panic swamping him. Oh God, oh God, oh God....

"I told you to stay in bed."

Lucius. Harry looked back round at him, staring at him desperately. Lucius coolly pointed at the bed with his stick and Harry numbly obeyed, tucking the blankets around himself securely, trying to protect himself from whatever was out there. Lucius said down beside him and pointed his stick at the side of the bed. There was a strange glow and then a tray appeared there with a small pop. Harry gave a yelp and jerked backwards.

"What's wrong now?" Lucius said, sounding a little annoyed.
"Wha...what just happened? Where did that come from?" Harry asked, aware that he sounded a little hysterical and not caring. He didn't have his memories and nothing around him seemed to be making any sense any more.

Lucius blinked at him, looking genuinely startled.

"Don't you remember your magic?" he asked.

"M-magic? Magic isn't real is it?"

Lucius sighed.

"Marvellous," he muttered "You must be channelling all your memories from when you lived with those Muggle fools."
"What?" Harry said helplessly "Muggles? What are those? What are you talking about? I don't understand."

"No," Lucius said with a rather annoyed sounding sigh "Just eat up Harry. I shall explain everything at a better moment."

Harry ate slowly, aware that Lucius was watching him and wishing that he wouldn't. It made him feel uncomfortable, like he was an animal in the zoo.

He'd finished his food at put it aside when the door opened and a boy came in. He had hair the same colour as Lucius's (although it was much shorter) and his eyes were the same piercing grey. He also had the same aristocratic beauty that Lucius had. His face lit up with a smile as soon as he saw Harry sitting there.

"Harry! You're awake!"

He moved over quickly and sprang onto the bed. Before Harry could even register what was happening, the boy's lips met his in a passionate kiss.

For a second, Harry was frozen, then he jerked back with another strangled yelp. The boy stared at him, clearly shocked.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I...I...who are you?!" Harry spluttered.

"What?"

The boy stared at him, hurt clear in his eyes.

"What do you mean, who am - "

"Draco," Lucius interrupted "Harry is suffering from amnesia. He doesn't remember who he is, or who we are."
"Oh," the boy said slowly "Okay then."

He smiled at Harry again, this time a more soothing smile.

"I'm Draco Malfoy," he said, as though this explained everything "We've been going out since last year but we've been best friends since first year."

"First year?"
"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," Draco said speaking quite gently.

"So...so you and I...are wizards too?"
"Of course! Don't you even remember that?"

"I don't remember anything," Harry said bitterly.

Draco patted his arm.

"We're both pure-blood," he said "That means our parents were wizards and witches too. Your parents are dead and you lived with Muggles - non-magic people - until they kicked you out."

"Kicked me out?"

"Yes. You and me met on the train and were both sorted into Slytherin - that's one of the Hogwarts Houses, the best one. Everyone knew us as the greatest double act - until you were expelled of course."

"Expelled?"

"Draco, that's enough," Lucius said firmly "This is all nonsense to Harry. Give him time to rest and digest a little of the information you've given before continuing."

"All right Father," Draco said quietly. He squeezed Harry's hand "We'll talk later, right?"

Harry nodded, his head aching with confusion. Not only did he not know who he was, but all these people around him seemed to be literally filled with information that made no sense to him at all.

He heard Lucius whisper something and point the snake-stick at him again. A cloud of sparks blew out and settled lightly over Harry like glitter. Harry had no idea what they were but as they sank into his skin, a wave of exhaustion slid over him and he snuggled down into the pillows, sinking back into a deep sleep.

Draco and Lucius stared down at the sleeping boy.

"Father," Draco said uncertainly "Are you sure this is the right thing to do?"

"Of course."

"But...but his amnesia is more natural than spelled...we didn't mean for it to happen, it was only when you cast that spell...what if he remembers something? I thought that memories always came back after a certain time..."

Lucius reached out and gently gripped the back of his son's neck. Draco stiffened slightly and trembled as his father's cold fingers idly stroked his sensitive skin.
"Just stick to what I've told you to say to him Draco," Lucius said softly "The Dark Lord and I have taken care of everything. Don't lose your nerve."

Draco nodded, eyes still fixed on Potter's sleeping face.

"Promise me Draco."

"I promise Father."

"Good. Now run along."

Draco slid off the bed and walked quickly to the door. He glanced behind him at his father, who was staring down at Potter with a look of cold calculation on his face.

Draco swallowed down a lump of fear. He didn't know whether it was magic or just intuition but he did know that no matter what happened, this could not end well.

End of Part 1.