Twisted

Chapter I

Harry's Flight

"What if I tell you, I know exactly how Dumbledore died," the cloaked wizard said. The wizard was tall and thin, his voice strong and clear. He was in a small, smoky pub, surrounded by anxious children. The pub was mostly empty, the windows opened to let in the evening breeze. "The downfall of the Tyrant of Hogwarts, the Slayer of Ministers, the one man who opposed our Liberator, Harry Malfoy."

One of the anxious children gasped in awe, "Do you? Do you?" she asked, practically jumping in her seat. The man chuckled at her excitement. He reached for his drink and took a swig at it, revealing, for a time, black hair, before he quickly covered it up by his hood.

"I do," the man said. "I should know, I've saw it all happen."

"No way!" another kid said, crossing his arms. "There's no way this old man saw Dumbledore died! Next thing you'll tell me you saw the False Lord's death too!"

"But I did," the man said smirking at the little kid. "Well, not exactly, I mean I wasn't there when Dumbledore and the False Lord fought, but I was there none the less."

"Tell us! Tell us!" the first girl jumped.

The man looked down at her and smiled. "Calm down sweetie, I'm getting there, don't you worry. Though, I have to admit, it's a long story."

"W-We can still hear it!" another boy said. "Daddy and Dad told me that I can be out till ten with Sam!"

"Tommy! Don't let him know that!" The first girl whispered; as if that was the biggest secret they held.

The man laughed a jolly laugh and slapped his knee. "You two are way too funny. What's your name boy?"

"Tommy! Tommy Finnigan. My Daddy and Dad are Seamus and Dean Finnigan!" the boy, Thomas, smiled.

"So they've got together… huh, good for them," the man said to himself. He looked down at Tommy and said, "Well Tommy, it's only six, and the sun's starting to set. How about we start now, and see how far we can reach."

"Okay!" Tommy smiled. The man looked at the small kids surrounding him and looked up at the barmaid. "Excuse me, miss? How about some drinks for us around here? This is going to be a long story."

"Sure thing," the barmaid nodded, taking out her wand and casually waving it. Bottles of butterbeer, and one glass of water made their way towards the group. The man caught the water and looked down into it as the kids took a sip of the butterbeer.

"This is a sad story, if you want to look at it one way," the man said. "You see, this all started when Harry Malfoy was in Hogwarts, with me, only he wasn't called Harry Malfoy at the time—"

"He was Harry Potter!" Tommy said excitedly, raising his hand.

The man chuckled. "Yup, that he was. Good job Tommy. How'd you know that?"

"Daddy and Dad told me they're friends with him!" Tommy said.

"Nah-uh, they aren't friends with Harry Malfoy!" the first kid said.

"What do you know Flint? Your Daddy hated Harry!" Tommy yelled.

"Kids, kids settle down, settle down," the man chuckled. "Do you want to hear the story or what?"

"We do! We do!" the kids chorused.

The man smiled at them and took a sip of his water. "Good. Now, as I said, this all started when Harry Malfoy was in Hogwarts, with me, only he wasn't called Harry Malfoy at the time, he was known as Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. Now, Draco always had an eye on Harry, ever since he refused his handshake in first year, now no more questions, yes I was there too when that happened. Now…"

Harry Potter was fifteen, and in pain. It was the summer of his sixth year, his godfather had just died three weeks ago, and now he was stuck with his relatives. He hated living with the Dursleys, his muggle relatives, not because of the enormous amount of chores they've forced him to do, and not because of the small cupboard they've forced him to live in for the first eleven years of his life, which now held his only connection to the magical world, his real world. No, what he hated most was his cousin, Dudley Dursley. This big, fat, beefy boy who somehow had muscles for days, most likely from his punching bag. Harry could deal with the yelling and lectures he got form his uncle and aunt, he could even deal with missing a meal for a day because his uncle decided to lock him in his room. But he could not deal with Dudley. His cousin was a monster, a sadistic human who only cared about Harry's pain.

Every day the damn muggle used Harry as a punching bag, beating Harry's body to the brink of death, only to stop short for the day. It only got worse when he founded out Harry was gay. It was stupid, really, and Harry hated himself for the entire summer of fifth year because of it. He couldn't stop thinking of Cedric Diggory, the boy he failed. Harry had such a crush on Cedric, and he planned on telling him about it after the Third Task. But unfortunately… Voldemort got to him first. Harry was sent home with a broken heart, but he couldn't get his mind off of Cedric.

His dreams were filled with the boy, smiling at Harry, kissing Harry, making love with Harry. It reached a point where he couldn't take it anymore, and after his Aunt and Uncle left for the day, leaving Harry alone to do his chores, Harry ran straight for his room, took off his clothes, and fell into his erotic fantasies with Cedric. Harry touched himself all over, moaning Cedric's name, envisioning the boy naked over him, kissing him, biting him, thrusting into him. Harry started to stroke himself, and he reached a point where he started screaming Cedric's name, too lost in his fantasy to notice what was happening around him.

Dudley seemed to forgotten something and went back home to get it. He heard Harry's moaned and came up to check, smirking as he thought of what he would do to Potter now that he's not doing his chores. With surprising silence and stealth for a boy of his size, Dudley sneaked into Harry's small room to see the boy naked, writhing and screaming Cedric's name. The muggle thought it was the funniest thing imaginable, and smirked when he noticed how woman-like his cousin's body seemed to be. When Harry came, giving out a loud moan, Dudley finally lost it and started laughing.

"You look like a bitch Harry!" He laughed, smirking at him. "And you sound like a dog too."

"D-Dudley!" Harry stuttered, trying to reach for his clothes. Dudley quickly snatched them and threw Harry's clothes out of the window.

"I don't think so, fag," Dudley said. "Who would have known that my cousin was a faggot… this could be really fun."

"You wouldn't tell Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia," Harry said worryingly. Fear growing inside him.

"Not unless you do exactly as I say," Dudley smirked. He leaned back and said, "Be a good dog, Faggot Potter, and do the rest of your chores. Before my dad and mum come back."

"But my clothes—"

"Dogs don't need clothes!" Dudley screamed. "Now move!"

And that was how Harry's humiliation gained a new level. For the entire summer until he was rescued, that awful muggle treated Harry like his dog. He was even crueler, his punches hurt even more, and Harry couldn't do anything to stop him. His wand, spell books, and equipment were all locked in the cupboard under the stairs, and even if he could access his wand, he still wasn't allowed to do magic out of Hogwarts. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place, tortured by an agony that his "savors" overlooked. They thought he and his cousin was just rough-housing, so The Order of the Phoenix simply stitched him back up, and sent him off to do more chores. But Harry didn't care. He finally felt he was home with his godfather Sirius Black, and his best friends Ron and Hermione. Naturally he did not tell anyone about Dudley's "games." It was too embarrassing for him, too humiliating, before forced to do so many awful things for the boy. Harry did his best to push it to the back of his mind, and focus only on the now.

But this summer, it was different. Harry had never felt so low. Losing the first boy he had a crush on was one thing, but losing his Godfather, his only real connection to a family, that devastated Harry. For the first couple of weeks back with the Dursleys Harry didn't eat, didn't drink, didn't talk. He just went about his chores as normal and headed straight to bed.

Did the Dursleys care? No. They did not. Uncle Vernon thought this was an improvement for the freak. "I barely hear a peep out of the boy anymore Petunia," he said to his wife one day.

"I know," Aunt Petunia nodded, looking at Harry who was silently cooking their dinner. "I don't know or care what happened to the boy, but this improvement is rather sudden. It's almost like Christmas Day."

"Yes, and he seems to be getting along with Dudley and his friends," Uncle Vernon chuckled. "That's what the boy needs. Firm discipline! The ones you can only get from people around your age."

Aunt Petunia nodded, "It is so nice of Dudders to do that, now isn't it Harry?" She turned towards Harry.

Harry stayed quiet, holding in the pain. Last night Dudley showed him his definition of "firm discipline." It ended with several large welts on Harry's rear, and bruises and cuts all over Harry's back. Not wanting a lecture, Harry just nodded and continued cooking.

"See that? Not even a word of sass from the boy," Aunt Petunia said. "Two years ago, he would have been trying to curse us into next week!" She laughed, Uncle Vernon joining her. The front door opened up, and Harry heard Dudley's voice saying, "Mum I'm home!"

"In the kitchen," Aunt Petunia said. Soon Dudley appeared in the doorway, it amazed Harry that the doorway was wide enough for the boy as he walked through. Dudley looked at Harry and said in a fake kind voice, "Harry, why not after you finishing cooking, you go up to my room?"

A shiver went up Harry's spine. He wondered how Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon don't know that Dudley is faking his kindness, he could easily hear the sliminess, the perverted rage inside his cousin's voice. He opened his mouth, trying to refuse, but just nodded.

Later that night, Dudley had Harry in his closet all night long, "where fags belong." Dudley's dirty laundry covered the closet floor, and tied up and hanged like a piece of meat, Harry was forced to smell that rank, awful smell as his cousin gave him the belt before sleeping.

Harry needed to escape, wanting to run away, if only he could get his wand, his luggage. Then he could run away and… go where? There was no way he wanted to go to Grimmauld Place, there are too many memories of Sirius, and the Burrow was too far away, being in Devonshire, which is far too long a walk. The Dursleys… Dudley would catch up to him before he even makes it halfway there.

But still he needed to reach out Dumbledore, to anybody! If only Hedwig was still here. Harry sent his beloved owl to the Weasleys at the beginning of summer. Better than being locked up in a cage here. As he hung there, his senses assaulted by the rank, disgusting smell of his cousin, Harry, for the first time, allowed his tears to freely fall. Sometime during the night, maybe from the rank smell, or physical exhaustion, Harry fell into an unconscious sleep, the tears staining his cheeks. He awoke to light assaulting his face as the closet door opened.

"Just you and me today Harry," Dudley's voice chuckled as Harry's vision blurred as he had to adjust for the light. If there was one thing he was grateful of, Dudley never hit his face, or broke his glasses. "Dogs needs to see," was his cousin's explanation.

But an entire day with Dudley? No! He couldn't handle it! His body still remembers last time they were alone, last time Dudley showed his dog who's boss. Harry thought he couldn't survive another day like that. He knew even with his muscles from Boxing, Dudley was still slow. If he could get his stuff… he might be able to escape. He just needed the opportunity.

During the entire day, Dudley watched television as Harry did his chores. He was lucky that day; Dudley told him that Harry looked so bad he should clothe himself. Harry waited until the enormous boy needed to use the bathroom. Harry was using the vacuum, so as soon as Dudley closed the door, Harry quickly ran to the front of the house, using the vacuum to block his noise, and grabbed the cupboard key from the key stand. Making his way to the cupboard, he unlocked it, and quickly grabbed everything he needed. His wand, school books, luggage. Quietly and swiftly, Harry ran to his room, packing the luggage full of clothes, and anything else he thought he would need. Time was working against Harry. He didn't have time to double-check he had everything as he ran out of the room, his trunk being pulled behind him in one hand as he carried his luggage in the other. He did not care about the noise he was making. He just needed to get out of the front door, turn, and run.

"Dog!" Dudley's voice yelled out from behind him. Harry did not turn to look. He knew if he did, he was done for. Harry kicked the front door open, surprised at his own strength, and ran out of Number 4 Private Drive for the last time. Dudley was still yelling behind him, chasing him, but Harry did not care. He turned right and started running.

Harry's breath came in pants as he ran away from Number 4 Private Drive. Behind him, the voice of his abuser kept yelling, "Harry! Harry, come back!"

The street was surprisingly empty for a summer day, and Harry used that as an advantage as he continued running. He didn't know where to go; he didn't know what to do. He needed to get away, that much is known. But by the rate Harry was moving, and considering that he was malnourished and abused, Harry knew that eventually, before he even got close to the borders of Little Whinging, never mind Surrey, Dudley would catch up to him. And then what? Beat him? Force him to do the cruel, unimaginable acts he forced him to do? No, Harry refused to do any of that, he was going to get away from it all. His Trunk kept skipping and bouncing as he ran down the sidewalk, and that was when Harry got an idea. He needed to Apparate. He needed to get somewhere safe, he needed to get to the Burrow. Not knowing what he was doing, Harry looked for a corner, or an alleyway to turn into. Dudley was still chasing him, and his wand was in his pocket, so with much awkwardness, Harry used his arm to hug his luggage to his side as he struggled to get his wand out. Bits of muggle money fell out, coins and pounds, but Harry didn't care. Who knows, maybe his greedy, glutinous abuser of a cousin would stop to collect them.

Harry made a sound of triumph as he pulled his wand out of his pocket, and thought with his entire mind about the Burrow. He pictured the house, how it's slanted and added-on appearance seemed to tower over the countryside, how his best friend is probably there now, forced to de-gnome the garden by his mother as she tends the chicken coop. He thought hard about the Burrow, the fun he had there, the food Mrs. Weasley gave him, but for some reason Harry kept focusing on the trees. The trees that surrounded the Burrow, the small forest where he first met Cedric, who literally fell down on top of his life. His mind just continued to envision the trees, and before Harry knew it, as he took a step he felt a harsh pull from his navel.

Everything went black, he was pressed very hard from all directions; he could not breathe, there were iron bands tightening around his chest; his eyeballs were being forced back into his head; his ear-drums were being pushed deeper into his skull. It felt as if Harry was being forced into a very tight rubber tube. He couldn't scream. And as soon as it started, it stopped. The iron bands disappeared, his head felt normal, and he was out of the rubber tube. Only he didn't felt safe. He felt extreme pain. His body was covered in cuts, as if small chunks of his body were left behind when he Apparated. His eyes opened because of the pain and saw he was surrounded by trees before the vision became blurred by his tears. Then, everything went black.

Draco Malfoy enjoyed his life. He was extremely handsome, being tall and lean with a naturally sculpted body, his hair was a rare platinum blonde that made any onlooker curious, and he had the most silver eyes in all of England. He was also extremely rich, being the heir to the old and vast Malfoy Fortune including its chain of apothecaries that all held rare and expensive ingredients, several robes stores, a natural preserve for dragons, and a large and well deserved influence over the Ministry of Magic. Boys and girls wanted him, and he couldn't be happier with that knowing that neither would ever have him. No, there is only room for one spouse in Draco Malfoy's life, and he already knew their name: Harry Potter. He knew that it seemed impossible, given that the Gryffindor currently hated him, but Draco knew that one day, Harry would fall for his charms.

"What are you thinking?" Blaise Zabini chuckled. Both boys were in the gardens at Malfoy Manor. It was better than being coped up inside the Manor, which currently housed several Death Eaters in preparation for the Dark Lord.

"Just how I can woo Harry Potter," Draco said as they walked past a bed of lilies.

Blaise chuckled, "You know that we are on opposing sides correct? No matter how cute Potter is."

"I know," Draco said. "Still, I will work around it."

"What? You're going to join Dumbledore?" Blaise laughed.

"Heavens no! I'll just have to show Harry the advantages of the Dark Arts. It was his side that ruthlessly labeled them that, after all," Draco said.

"Yes, because the Killing Curse can be so romantic," Blaise said dead-pan.

"Oh sod off Zabini!" Draco said a hint of a blush on his pale cheeks. Blaise laughed and shook his head. They've turned a corner, approaching a mixture of white lilies and exotic purple flowers when they heard a scream.

"What was that?" Blaise asked, looking around. It sounded it came from the forest that surrounded Malfoy Manor, just off of the property. Both he and Draco looked up to see birds flying from the trees. The scream was loud, painful, as if the howl of life—and then it stopped.

"Come on, let's check it out before those idiots hear it," Draco said, running off in the direction of the scream. Who would dare try and intrude upon Malfoy Manor?

The two friends ran into the trees, their forms easily being consumed by the forest. But Draco didn't get lost, he explored these trees for sixteen years, he knew ever bark, branch, and beaten path of this forest. He quickly ran down the forest, turning at a large oak tree, Zabini barely keeping up.

Draco had to stop short, or else he would have tripped over a large trunk. He looked around to see the trunk, the large luggage, clothing and books scattered around everywhere. And there, in the middle, was Harry Potter. Only his body was badly damaged, and there was blood everywhere. Draco got to his knees and placed his ear on Harry's chest. Thankfully, he was still breathing.

"Blaise!" he shouted, "Come quick!"

Blaise caught up and panted slightly as he looked down. "Damn," he said, looking at Draco, both boys hold a small smile of relief. "Seems like the little lion got lost."

Draco nodded and looked around. "We need to get him back to my room. Hurry," he said. He snapped his fingers and ordered the several house-elves that appeared to clean up Harry's belongings and bring them to his rooms. Then, carefully so to not hurt him, Draco and Blaise lifted Harry up and begun the process of carrying him towards Malfoy Manor.

A/N: And there is the first chapter of my Dark! Evil! Harry! Now to watch as Draco and Blaise patch Harry up, and bring him up to his regular, but better, self. How will Harry react to being in Malfoy Manor? How will Dumbledore react? Who will be Harry's friends in the end?