The Fear of Being Found

Night Angel 101

DISCALIMER: Nothing belongs to me…. So sad  …. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling …. At least, the characters in this story do…

SUMMARY: "Squeezing his eyes shut, he rocked slowly as a slow mantra reeling in his mind. You're invisible… He can't see you… He won't know you're here… He'll leave soon…" WARNING: Mentions of abuse and some language.

RATING: T for suggestion of abuse and coarse language ….. okay, so not a suggestion of abuse but full out…

Could I change one thing?

Could I change your mind?

Shall we burn it just like the last time?

I can't change a thing, can't explain why I never felt it

Not even the first time.

The Fear of Being Alone, Blaqk Audio

A little, black-haired fur ball darted into a tiny hiding space under the porch. He knew that no one would be able to find him under here. Or so he hoped. He just couldn't be found by – him. He cowered in fear as he heard footsteps above his head. Gingerly, he laid a hand on the swelling bruise on his face. Hissing in pain, he hurriedly moved his hand to his mouth and prayed that he hadn't been heard. Whoever was walking on the porch above him froze and the boy pulled back, deeper into the dark hiding place. He could feel his breaths speeding up and whimpered silently behind his hand. He didn't want him to come anywhere near him. Not ever again. But he could do nothing to stop him. He hadn't meant to drop his cousin's breakfast on the floor – but everybody had taken it the wrong way.

Tears started trailing down his face and he hiccupped. He didn't want to be hurt again. Not after he had been trying to hard to be a good little boy. When he heard the footsteps recede back into the house, he began to sob uncontrollably. He just knew he'd be found. He hurt all over already – wasn't that payment enough? Did he really have to go through more? He felt his left arm and felt a sticky substance on his fingers. He felt nauseous as he realized it was his own blood. He never liked that, for it had always meant that the usually controlled beatings had gotten out of control. And lately, his uncle hadn't had much control over his anger.

It's my fault though, the small boy thought, rubbing his hands over his wet eyes. I've been messing up a lot lately. He flinched as he heard footsteps storming above him again. He's going to find me! Fear coursed through his very being and he could feel – something – building up within him.

"BOY!" He flinched as his uncle yelled his name for him menacingly. "I know you're out here, and I will find you!" The boy drew his knees up to his chest and lay his head on top of them. He started to shiver as he felt the wind pick up. Pulling himself closer together, he tried to keep himself warm. No such luck was granted to him though.

He felt tears running down his face again as her heard his uncle walking through the grass. He jumped and clamped his hand over his mouth to prevent the faint "squeak" sound he made to be heard when he saw his uncle's feet. He's too close; the nausea was building up in him as dread filled him. He let out his breath when he saw him walking away, not even knowing that he had been holding his breath to begin with. He hugged himself tightly, trying to provide even a little comfort for the pain that he felt.

He didn't have any friends because everybody was afraid of his cousin. Dudley (his cousin) was a bully that nobody really wanted to mess with. His favourite pastime had always been to beat up and humiliate his younger cousin. He had been known to beat Harry to the point of blacking out due to all the pain. He'd gotten one broken rib from him because of that. At home, though, he never beat his cousin and instead watched his father do it. Like father, like son, Harry thought grimly. He was far advanced in his years, what with being locked in a cupboard all his life – or so far. He had learned to read earlier than most and liked to do so when everybody else was sleeping. That was the only time he could relax – in the darkest hours of the night. He had a little light in his cupboard and a small collection of hidden books. Mrs Figg from just down the street had let him borrow some of her own books. She knew what went on in that house but had no proof to condemn the family and save the boy.

Mrs Figg. She was odd, but he'd always liked her because she treated him like he was worth something. He knew he didn't deserve it, but he still liked it. The cats he didn't much care for. There were so many and he had sent too many years listening to her talk about them. He did however like them better than he liked his Uncle Vernon's sister's dogs. He shuddered as he thought about them. And that brought his thoughts back to his current situation. Stupid, little freak, he reprimanded himself with his relatives' favourite thing to call him, keep your mind off of the current situation.

A few moments passed as he made his mind go blank. And then he heard a twig snap. Seeing someone kneeling down, he made himself go back even further beneath the deck until he was completely hidden in the darkness. He shivered in fear as he saw the maniacal look on his uncle's face. He could feel the need to scream forcing its way past his lips but he swallowed as quietly as possible to keep himself from doing so. Squeezing his eyes shut, he rocked slowly as a slow mantra reeling in his mind. You're invisible… He can't see you… He won't know you're here… He'll leave soon… You're invisible… He can't see you… He won't know you're here… He'll leave soon… You're invisible… …

Slowly opening his eyes, he saw that the person who had been kneeling had gotten up. Harry silently thanked anyone who may have been listening to his silent prayer. As he crawled over to the darkest corner, he flinched every so often as he felt a piercing pain in his arm. Curling up in a ball, he nursed his injured arm, flinching every so often as he heard his uncle screaming at him from the yard.

Then the thunder started. He was petrified of thunder. Yelping, he hugged himself tightly, a sob escaping him every so often when the thunder got too loud. And then his uncle yelled the most malicious thing (or so Harry thought). "Fine, you little piece of shit! You can stay out here, in the cold with the thunder all around you, all night long! And you won't be coming back in until this is over! You hear me, you little freak?! And you can expect the worst when it is over!" He could almost see the look on his uncle's face and whimpered as he thought of it.

He cringed as he heard the door slam somewhere above his head. The next bolt of lightning accompanied by its symphony of thunder sent him running out from under the porch. He desperately yanked at the door, wailing for them to let him in. After a while, he sank to the ground, tears coursing down his face and snivelling for them to let him in. He could hear his uncle's laughter and with that buried his head in his knees, sobbing for all he was worth. Good boys don't cry, he thought, desperately wiping the tears from his eyes. I have to be a good boy so they'll like me!

Shivering with cold and a possible fever, Harry got up and started walking in the direction that he hoped Mrs Figg lived. He was exhausted after the hiding and the fear of being found, and all he wanted to do was sleep in his cupboard. But he couldn't because he was locked out. He furiously wiped away another onslaught of tears at this point and forced himself to stand up just a little bit straighter. He hadn't gotten anywhere near Mrs Figg's house when he collapsed on the sidewalk. Coughing, he was vaguely aware of a young boy running out from his house towards him. With blurry eyes, he looked up at the pale face and saw blue eyes looking at him worriedly.

"Help m-," unable to finish what he was going to say, he blacked out. The last thing he heard was a worried voice calling for his papa…

Harry blinked twice as he saw a narrow ray of sunlight across the wall that he was staring at. Turning around, he noticed that everything was blurry and realized that his glasses were missing. Panicking, he searched the area around him for them. Sure enough, on the table beside his bed was a pair of glasses. Putting them on, he looked up and for the first time noticed the boy with blonde hair and blue eyes staring at him.

"Just a second," the boy said, hopping up from his chair and running to the door. "Papa! Mama! He woke up! What was I 'sposed to do again?"

Harry burrowed further under the warm blankets as he heard somebody – or some bodies as the case may be – coming up the stairs. Fear enveloped him as a tall man with blonde hair and cold grey eyes walked into the room. He didn't like the way the man looked at him and felt like running away. But exhaustion was still upon him and his legs felt heavy. Behind him was a slim, brown-haired, blue-eyed and attractive (1) woman of whom Harry could only assume was the boy's mother, for the man was so obviously his father.

The boy appeared to be having a deep discussion with his father and had him mostly saying "I shan't, I shan't, I shan't!" Eventually, the father gave in and his son ran back to Harry's bed, tripping in the process. Harry would have laughed but he had started coughing when this happened. The other boy jumped back onto his feet as if nothing had happened and ran towards the bed again.

"Hi! My name's Draco Malfoy and I helped you last night! Are you feeling okay? Where'd that purple-y thing on your cheek come from? Where do you live? Would you play with me when you get all better? Is your family wealthy? Do you have any siblings?" Harry was amazed at how many questions the boy had and wisely kept his mouth closed as he zipped through them all. When he finally finished talking, there was an awkward silence in which Harry realized he was supposed to answer back. Not wanting to seem rude, he just introduced himself and settled back into being quiet. Draco, however, seemed fine with this and hopped up on to the side of the bed.

"Mama? Can I take his tempratorture? I want to play but there's nobody to play with! Where'd daddy go? What time are we having lunch? I want to go swimming later today! Can-"

"Shh! Draco, I need to take care of Harry here! And it's temperature, not tempratorture, silly."

Draco pouted slightly but suddenly smiled as an idea dawned on him. Crawling to the side of the bed that Harry wasn't occupying, he slipped underneath the covers and curled up beside him. "I'm going to stay right here until Hawwy's all better so that we can all go do fun stuff!"

Narcissa gave her son a small smile and went back to taking Harry's temperature. Seeing that the fever had, indeed, gone down, she gave him a small dose of cold medicine. When she got back from putting the medicine away, she saw that the two boys had fallen asleep curled up against each other. Not having the heart to wake up Harry to ask him what his phone number was, she tucked the blankets in tighter and sat down beside them. She had a feeling she'd have a long wait ahead of her…

Harry yawned tiredly and slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Narcissa quickly sat up when she saw him move and whispered, "Harry, I need to call your parents. What's the number?"

Harry felt fear clench his heart but nodded and gave the number to her. He was scared of what his uncle had been talking about the night before. He didn't want to be hurt. And he had made a new friend too! Well, his first friend, really if he though about it. But still, he knew it would all be ripped away too quickly if she called his house. "But nobody's there!" he blurted out quickly, praying to God (if he really existed (2)) that he forgive him for this one little lie.

Narcissa could have sworn she'd seen fear in the lovely emerald green eyes, but chose to think nothing of it. She thought he was absolutely darling and didn't want him to feel like he was burdening anyone with the fact that he wanted to stay. She could tell her was lying about his parents not being home, but she kept it to herself. Smiling at him, she got up and went downstairs. And then it dawned on her.

Harry Potter. Lily Evans and James Potter. The car crash. Gasping, she held a hand to her mouth as she made the connection. Lily Evans and James Potter had been married for a while and their son had been celebrating his first birthday when they were killed in a car crash. A shard of glass had left an odd, faint lightning bolt scar on the baby's forehead. The man in the other car had been a certain Tom Riddle, a gang leader, who had been sentenced to 25 years to life in prison for driving under the influence and killing the idols. The baby had been sent to live with his relatives because his godfather lived overseas and moved around too much to give the baby a suitable home. His boyfriend was also known to get sick a lot, so they had decided that his relatives were the most suitable choice.

She felt tears prick at her eyes as she suddenly realized just how similar Harry looked to his father and had his mother's eyes. She wondered, vaguely, if he had her personality as well. Narcissa, Molly Weasley, and Lily Evans had all been the best of friends while growing up. Their husbands had been mortal enemies since they'd laid eyes on each other. James Potter and Arthur Weasley had been known to taunt Lucius and his friends as children. Later on, Peter Pettigrew and Sirius Black (Narcissa's cousin) had joined in. When Remus Lupin had come along, though, Sirius had eventually stopped taunting them, especially Severus Snape. James and Arthur eventually started wooing Molly and Lily. It wasn't until after High School that Lucius had developed an interest in Narcissa. And still the wives stayed friends and the husbands became acquaintances.

Enough reminiscing, Narcissa, she thought to herself, rubbing her eyes tiredly. You have to call those …Dursley's? Was that their name? She honestly couldn't remember and couldn't care less. From what Lily had told her, when they had been growing up, Petunia and Lily had gotten along quite well. And then Vernon came along and she had changed. She had started doing things that she wouldn't normally do and said things she wouldn't normally say. She had dropped out of university in order to have her son, Dudley, and lived to hate Harry. That poor boy, she couldn't help but think…

Draco woke up and looked at the dark-haired boy beside him. "Whatimeisit?" he asked, slurring his words together due to sleepiness. Harry glanced at the clock and mumbled, "12:00 p.m." Draco nodded slightly and slowly got out of the bed. He didn't like to get up so quickly after a nap but he had the sudden urge to walk around.

"Harry," Draco began to say, and then stopped abruptly. Harry glanced up and then nodded his head to let the blonde know that he was listening. "Harry, why were you wandering around last night?"

Harry looked down at the floor before suddenly coming up with an idea. "Igotlost," he managed to say quickly. He felt a faint blush on his face, knowing he was a bad liar and hating that he'd lied.

"Oh. I see now."

"Yeah."

"Do you have to go home soon?"

"Yeah, I think so," Harry whispered, shyly.

"Oh. Doyouwanttobefriendswithme?"

"Huh?" He glanced over at Draco, confusion etched onto his pretty features.

Taking a deep breath, Draco said slowly: "Do you want to be friends with me?"

Taken aback, Harry stared at Draco in surprise. After a moment's pause, he slowly nodded his head. A huge grin plastered itself onto Draco's face and he raced out of the room to his mom.

Harry slowly walked up the front steps to the door. Reaching out, he opened it and stepped inside. Here was his past, present, and future. He could the fear sinking in, the fear of being found. And he knew that he'd never see his friend Draco after that one day…

A/N: Yeah, I know... It kinda sucks... But meh, I'm not all that great at one shots...R&R please! The button is there for a reason after all:D. Leave constructive criticism, compliments, w/e you feel is necessary for me to know!! Thanks! - Night Angel 101