Circle of Darkness

Circle of Darkness- part 3

A/N: In this story assume that the driver knows who Harry Potter really is by now. I know Harry told him a fake name in the books but pretend the driver -Stan?- figured it out.

Crawling continued

Draco Malfoy stepped off the night bus onto Privet Drive. Draco was wearing his wizard robes, not caring who saw him under the cover of night. With a sigh, he looked around at the different houses. `Muggles,´ he thought. `So this is where the famous Harry Potter lives´ his inner voice dripped with sarcasm.

Draco wasn´t really sure why he was here of all places. His dad had come home after a Death Eaters meeting in a bad mood. When Draco asked how his meeting went, Malfoy went NUTS! He started to yell at Draco. Draco lost his temper and yelled back; that was a mistake he realized too late.

~Discomfort endlessly has pulled itself upon me
Distracting, Reacting
Against my will
I stand beside my own reflection~

Absently, Draco reached up to his bruised cheek as he remembered what had happened. His father had advanced on him so quickly that there was no time to run. Mr. Malfoy grabbed Draco by the collar and struck him across the face. "If you ever talk back to me again I´ll KILL you! Understand?" he spat.

"Yes Sir!" cried Draco in fear.

"Now get out of here!" Lucius pushed his son down the stairs and turned away. Draco tried hard not to cry as he slowly got up, his head spinning.

`Why does he always have to hit me?´ Draco wondered as he checked himself over, making sure that nothing was broken. Seeing everything was intact, he bolted out of the house. After a short walk, he held out his wand signaling the Night Bus. Luckily, the diver knew where Harry Potter lived. Now Draco found himself standing in front of his worst enemy´s home. "At least I can yell at Potter. Then I´ll feel better."

As the blond haired boy approached the door, completely unaware of the Dursleys and their distaste for magic, he thought he heard a muffled scream. Draco´s hand paused halfway to the door. He leaned his ear against the wood instead, to listen. There it was again. Curious, Draco peered through the living room window. "It´s at least ten o´clock, what´s all that noise from?" Draco´s eyes widened in shock and fear, the color draining from his face, much as it had Harry´s days before.

~It´s haunting, how I can´t seem to find myself again
My walls are closing in~

I couldn´t believe what I was seeing. I thought I had it bad, but compared to Potter...the curtains were parted enough to allow me to see in. I was shocked to see Harry run into the room looking like Voldemort was hot on his heals. The next instant, a fat man with a mustache entered behind him carrying a whip. "What´s he doing with that?" I asked myself, still not understanding.

Harry made for the door. I jumped as he emerged from the house. For a brief moment we stared at each other. I took in his disheveled look and injuries: cuts, bruises, scars, whiplashes, and lots of blood. The whip marks were long, scattered across his face and collarbone descending beneath his oversized, hand-me-down rags. I could tell by the paleness of his skin and lean figure that he´d not eaten right or been outside much.

A beefy hand landed on Harry´s shoulder, his eyes pleaded with me for help. I ducked into the shadows, afraid of being seen as the man dragged Harry back into the house. "Where do you think you´re going? You useless bastard!"

I peered into the window again, once the door had closed. I couldn´t believe it! Harry was asking me for help, me, his worst enemy! Well maybe not anymore, not when there was this man to contend with.

Tears stung my eyes as I watched the Man and a fat kid, obviously his son, pummel on Harry. They would throw things, kick and punch him, and then there was that blasted whip. Tears leaked out of Harry´s eyes as he lay on the ground breathing hard, blood covering his abused and broken body.

When I thought I couldn´t bear to watch anymore, the beating stopped. I held my breath as the fat man picked Harry up and carried him up the stairs. I rushed over to the porch window. The fat man dropped Harry on the floor in the first room and closed and locked the iron door. "By Merlin´s Mercy!" I whispered.

~Without a sense of confidence
I´m convinced that there´s just too much pressure to take
I´ve felt this way before
So insecure~

"Hey! Who´s there?" demanded the fat man. I realized he was looking at me through the window. He rushed down the stairs towards me. Panicked, I ran down the street and flagged the Night Bus.

"Where to?" asked the driver.

"Malfoy Mansion," I answered, sinking down on one of the beds to think about what just happened. I wasn´t sure what to do. Only one thing was certain, "I have to help him."

~Crawling in my skin
These wounds, they will not heal
Fear is how I fall
Confusing what is real~

"Where have you been?" Mr. Malfoy approached his son as he entered the mansion.

Draco recoiled then caught himself. "I was...I."

Draco´s mind spun around looking for an answer. He couldn´t lie, but he couldn´t tell the truth either, he wanted to help Harry, not condemn him. If his father found out that Harry was in a vulnerable state now, he´d tell Voldemort and they´d kill him. He didn´t want that. Regardless of their past differences, they were going to need each other later, like it or not.

"Answer me," Malfoy demanded a deep frown forming on his face.

At his fathers´ impatient demand, Draco quickly snapped out of his revive to answer, "I was causing trouble for Potter, Sir." Well it was his original intention.

~There´s something inside me
That pulls beneath the surface
(Consuming)~

His father studied him for a moment then nodded. Relief washed over Draco, but he was careful not to show it. "Very good. Now it´s getting late. Go to bed."

"Good-night, Sir." Draco took his leave.

~This lack of self-control I fear is never ending
(Controlling)~

He fell instantly into an uneasy sleep that left him tossing and turning all night. Lost in a retelling of the past. He relived his own grievances. Time and time again, as the dream continuously shifted between Harry Potter´s beatings and his own, inflicted upon him by his own father. Yes, the two did indeed have much in common.

~Confusing what is real~