445Chapter 3: The Kindness of Strangers
The Boy Who Loved
By
Belle. A. Lestrange
Synopsis: Draco gets disowned and lives as a homeless person in Surrey, near where Harry lives, though neither boy knows it. This story is set in the muggle world however Draco was a wizard. Harry was never introduced to the wizarding world and works as an employee at his local supermarket. When he finds a young blonde living rough he gradually helps him out and later sneaks Draco into his house to live. Unfortunately, Harry's relatives get suspicious and try to throw both boys' out, all the while Lucius has men set out to find Draco and kill him, lest he exposes their world to Harry.
Chapter Three: The Kindness of Strangers
The pale grey light of dawn snaked its way into the mouth of the tunnel slide that Draco was using as his cold, hard bed, however this did not deter the blond from sleeping restlessly. He had fallen unconscious when the populated are around him finally quietened down as though someone had cast a silencing charm on the world, and he had eventually fallen out of reality and into his fitful dreams. He had shifted throughout the night, trying to get himself comfortable. He was grateful that his hoodie was warm and comfortable at least, otherwise he doubted whether he would have slept at all.
6:45am.
Harry had waited as he watched the digital numbers slowly change on his clock. When the alarm went off it barely made any noise at all as he jammed his hand down onto the snooze button. He had been dressed and ready for twenty minutes before the alarm had eventually gone off. He had not slept well the night before and needed a run to clear his head out, and try to figure out what was going on with him recently. He had felt bitter for a while now without any knowledge as to why that was. He rolled his eyes and grabbed his work schedule off of the bedside table beside his alarm clock. His shift started at 8:30am. He could go for a run at least and still have some time to make breakfast before everyone else woke up. The smell of frying bacon would rouse Vernon from his sleep. Harry shook his head and stood up from his bed and left his room. The house was bathed in a thin sheen of darkness, as dawn had not yet arisen. He sighed yet again and went back to his daily routine.
Draco was freezing. He was perched on top of the wooden climbing frame and staring out over the local community. It looked bleak, as the sun was not up over the hill yet. His chin was resting on his knees as his eyes stung from a fitful night of sleep and his throat was dry from lack of drink and normal food. He was scared. The wood was harsh underneath his buttocks. He shifted awkwardly and felt no difference. He needed to get somewhere, do something, go for a walk and stretch his legs at the very least, as he had spent over twenty-four hours curled up in a ball in that strange tunnel thing. He shivered again. His stomach growled furiously. He doubled over, his eyes squeezed shut, as he tried to suppress the gnawing within his gut. He winced.
Adrenaline was pumping furiously through his veins as he ran along the tarmac pathways looped continuously around the deserted fields where the playground sat. He panted heavily and, after some time, stopped to lean against the iron fencing around the playground. He felt cool air dry the sweat on his flexed muscles. He rubbed at his muscles, trying to warm-down as much as possible. It worked fairly well and quickly as a hunched over figure caught his attention. He exhaled heavily and squinted up at the hunched over person, presumably a boy, with a hood pulled low over his pale face. Harry could not help but frown up at the figure. He looked rumpled and bedraggled. Harry stretched his muscles and turned to jog the rest of the way home. It was no concern of his if there was one other person around his general area who woke up before dawn. He ran a hand through his damp, sweaty hair as he jogged, gaining momentum, and panting heavily. He could smell the overheated sweat on his skin. When he eventually got home he crashed to a halt on the grassy front garden of Number Four and rolled onto his back, panting heavily, sweat staining his pale grey shirt. The sun was ever so slowly crawling up into the blue sky as his breathing carefully eased. "POTTER!" The yell ripped through the air and jerked Harry's heart into his throat, which in his present condition, forced him to roll up into a sitting position and cough. He glanced down at his watch. 7:25am.
"SHIT!" he exclaimed smacking a hand against his forehead, scrambling to his feet and racing into the front door, kicking it shut as he did so, and sliding down the hallway into the kitchen, panting and reeking of sweat. He was greeted by all three Dursley's sitting at the kitchen table, eyeing him with distaste. He swallowed thickly. He knew he was in trouble now. His muscles tensed up immediately.
Vernon cracked his thick knuckles the veins popping underneath his skin, "So, boy, where have you been at this time of the morning?" his voice grumbled and vibrated through Harry's system. He inwardly shuddered.
"I was –out. Jogging" he stated lamely, his voice as strong as he could muster.
"And why were you out jogging when you should have been here making us all our breakfast" Vernon barked.
Petunia winced beside him and Dudley merely frowned down at his plate as though he could not understand why there was not any food on it. Harry licked his suddenly dry mouth. "I go out every morning but I lost track of the time. You have two working hands, Vernon, why not put them to good use for once in your life?" He didn't know what made him snap back at his Uncle, but it felt oddly exhilarating. He knew it was the wrong thing to do by the way his Uncle's face changed from red to purple, but he could not bring himself to care at that exact moment. He rolled his eyes and made his way back to his bedroom to grab his clothes so that he could shower, change and leave. He had grabbed his clothes and was busy checking the temperature of the water when it happened. Something large and heavy crashed into the back of his head and sent him flying into the cold, wet shower cubicle, his glasses breaking as he collided with the silver taps on the wall. They splintered in his eyes as his teeth hit the metal piping. His body slid down into a wet pile at the bottom of the shower cubicle, hot water pounding down on top of him. The door clicked shut though the sound was lost through the pounding water that was raining down onto the unconscious dark-haired boy crumpled beneath it.
~0~
"Why is this bloody place so big without any proper directions?" Draco muttered. He had finally ventured away from the playground and into the main part of town, and was regretting his decision almost as quickly as he had made it. He had been trying to remember which way he had come from but thanks to the bustling crowds so early on a Friday morning twisting him and turning him in all directions, he had lost the mental map within his head. He sighed, his silver eyes scanning for a place to sit down and think for a moment or two. There was a bench facing the road, made of blackened iron and was cold to the touch, but he welcomed the seat as his knees crumbled beneath him. He felt almost like he wanted to cry. Almost.
He had never felt so lost before in his entire life.
He dropped his head into his hands and sniffled as the sun flashed down onto his features. He brushed his stringy fringe out of his eyes and frowned at the muggle cars honking their horns and zooming past at break-neck speed. He swallowed thickly. He wanted to go home, if that was what the Manor was to him. An old lady settled herself next to him, a little shopping trolley stuffed with bags emblazoned with a red and blue logo on the front were parked beside her knees. She hummed a little tune to herself, her snowy white hair floating like small fluffy clouds around her features. He tried to ignore her but found he was oddly comforted by her strange presence. "Are you alone dearie?" enquired the old lady, her voice chirpy and gentle.
He looked at her as though she were mad. Why was she speaking to him? They were strangers to one another, what on earth did he have to offer her? He nodded stiffly, "yeah –I am"
She tutted, "it's a dreadful thing to be on your own. I should know. Been alone fourteen years tomorrow, I have. Damn husband had to go and die on me" she chuckled to herself, "not that I blame him. Our children were a handful at the best of times when they were young" Draco could only nod along. "Do you have family around here?"
Draco shook his head, "n-no they're … they're dead"
Out of the corner of his eye he watched her expression turn from shock to sympathy. She sighed to herself, "it's rough in this life, dearie, but it always gets better. Have you had anything to eat today?"
He shook his head, a strange substance of hope boiling up in the back of his mind, "no –not since –a few days ago I think"
"And you're still standing? Dearie me. Well that settles what I have to do the rest of the day" she stated, climbing up onto her stiffened legs, "we are going for some food"
He swallowed past the lump in his throat, "f-food?"
"Yes I should imagine that you are starving. Now come on I know a lovely little place for lunch" and with that she started tottering off pushing her little trolley in front of her, not even bothering to look back to see if Draco was following her. Draco merely sat there in shock, not believing his good fortune from this sweet little old lady. Without a second thought he strode quickly to catch-up with her and listened to her as she talked about her late husband with an affectionate nature and chuckling each time she mentioned one of the silly things he had done when he had been alive.
"So … I have never been here before I don't exactly know –what to … er … I don't have any money on me-" those were words Draco had never expected to hear himself say. His hair was greasy as he ran his fingers through it. The elderly woman, whom was called Anita, waved her hand dismissively at him.
"Don't be silly, dearie, I can afford two meals for the both of us" she smiled sweetly up at him as they entered the café. There was a short queue to the cashier's till, and there were small round tables dotted everywhere, some with occupants and some were free. Draco looked around, having not realised muggles had theses types of café's as well. "Now is there anything you could like in particular or should I surprise you?" Anita asked, her warm amber eyes smiling merrily. Draco was torn. On the one hand he was so hungry he could probably digest just about anything that was placed beforehand but on the other hand he was one of the fussiest eater's Slytherin had ever known. He frowned but the growling from his stomach settled Anita's mind. "Surprise it is, I won't be long, now you just sit at a table and I will come and find you"
Draco nodded however as soon as Anita totted off to join the queue, he instantly felt lost. He looked around aimlessly. He decided he should do as Anita had told him, find a table and sit down. He found one in a small booth that had cushioned chairs that felt soft to the touch and a slightly widened table compared to the others, which he felt would be perfect; the large expanse of wood for, he hoped, all the food, along with the cushioned chairs for both his and Anita's benefit. He sank into the soft chair and felt relieved at such comfort. He relaxed and could not help but tense at the odd looks people were giving him. He knew it was most likely to do with his appearance. He knew he looked like a grubby street-urchin but it was not his fault. He shrugged their stares away, and rubbed his eyes.
"Here you go dearie, two full sized lunches on me!" sang out Anita's chirpy voice as she toddled over followed by a waitress carrying a large tray laden with food. Draco felt saliva pool under his tongue. He was wide-eyed and transfixed as Anita sat down opposite him and he lent back so that the waitress could put their plates down on the table. There was a large plate of fish fingers, sausages and mashed potatoes along with a small cupcake for dessert. His stomach growled again. Anita had a bowl of soup, a sandwich and a steaming-hot minced-meat pie. It all smelled wonderful. The waitress walked away with the tray and Anita started to dig into her meal. Draco frowned. Weren't they supposed to pay? He queried Anita on this and she waved her hand away, "don't worry, dearie, I have paid already up at the till" she gestured over to where their waitress was working behind a bulky silver mechanism. Draco frowned. He had no idea what a till was. He decided to do the only thing he felt comfortable doing at that moment.
He devoured the food that had been placed before him.
"So what happened to you, for you to end up in this state?" Anita asked after a few minutes of compatible silence. Draco froze, his fork halfway to his mouth, as he looked over at Anita's kind eyes. He swallowed thickly. "You seem like such a nice lad," Anita continued as she cut into her pie, "if you don't wish to tell me then that is fine"
Draco felt that he owed this woman some form of explanation as he had indirectly splashed her money on this food. "Well … my father disowned me"
Anita frowned, "I thought you said you had family around here?"
Draco nodded, "I did at one point I think … but I think they're dead"
Anita's sceptical eyes turned sympathetic once again, "it's no good wondering around somewhere that you have no idea where you are or what you're doing?"
Draco nodded, "it's not the best I will admit. I am entirely lost and have nowhere to go and no one to talk to" Anita gave a small cough. He smiled, "except you of course"
She beamed brightly at him, "well if you like I could help you around here"
Draco licked his lips. He twiddled his thumbs around his fork and glanced at her, "where exactly is 'here'?"
"You're in Surrey, dearie, and not to worry, lets finish our lunch and I can show you something that you could do to help around here. What do you think about being a young carer?"
Draco felt as though he had been splinched. "Um … what is a young carer?"
Anita looked momentarily shocked before swallowing her food, "a young person who volunteers for the elderly from time-to-time and helps them with trivial things like shopping or a spot of cleaning here and there"
"Like a bloody house elf" he muttered to himself as he took a drink of the strange fizzing drink she had bought for him. At her questioning frown he cleared his throat, "it sounds –interesting. I have never done anything like that before-"
She waved her hand again, "it's nothing too serious just one or two days a week. You don't need experience or anything you just need to prove you can be trusted"
Draco felt the scars that marred his skin burn beneath his clothes. He had never had to earn anyone's trust before; it had always been the other way around, much like the servitude. He shifted in the seat. "Well maybe I could –think about it?"
Anita smiled brightly at that, "well thinking about changing your life is the first step towards making something of yourself"
she reached down into her trolley pocket and produced a sheet of white flimsy paper and a small, strange looking quill. She scribbled something down and then slid it over to him, "here you are, that is address if you change your mind"
Draco looked down at it and then frowned at her, "how are you so sure I won't stop by and rob you?" he had meant it as a joke, but as soon as the words left his mouth he wondered how many young muggle youths would actually take the address of a kind young lady and actually rob her and perhaps been words. He swallowed thickly feeling a little awkward.
She shrugged, "like I told you, you look like a nice boy, and if I'm wrong well –maybe you'll steal some of my useless knick-knacks" she chuckled to herself.
Oddly enough, those warm-hearted words from a complete stranger made Draco smile to himself as he returned his attention to the food that was laid down in front of him. He was feeling better about things around him, alongside the food that was filling up, he decided that he would seriously think about Anita's offer. It seemed like a good once and it may even turn out to be a new door ready to open up and welcome him within.
~0~
"Do you think he'll wake up anytime soon?"
"Well what do you think?"
"I have no idea, Vernon hit him pretty bad"
"He took several bad hits"
"I can see that –the glasses were splintered on his face! He was lucky not to be blinded permanently with them!"
"No need to be shrill I can see the scars thank you"
"Not be shrill! I'm meant to care for this boy and look at him!"
"WELL THEN NEXT TIME TRY AND DEFEND HIM!"
Harry winced and groaned as he came around, the blackness that usually resided behind his eyelids was no more. He could hear his shrill Aunt arguing with another voice that he could not recognise. The bright whiteness that seared through his eyelashes as he tried to open his eyes was, in fact, burning bright and unsettling. 'I bet I'm in a hospital -again' he winced to himself, as the pain exploded throughout his body. He could not remember what had happened to him. He probably did not want to know. It was probably pretty bad to land him in hospital. He was grateful that his Aunt was getting a seeing-to by a nurse, she needed to be told the cold harsh truth that her husband was an abuser fucker. He felt unsettled, not wanting to deal with the two angry women in the room, which he would have to do if he opened his eyes to look at them. All he had to do was wait until the lights were turned off and he would be able to crack his eyes open and look around. He shivered slightly as a summer breeze wafted in through the window. He felt naked underneath the hospital sheets.
"Look, your nephew needs his rest and arguing next to him is not going to do him any good. Please leave and take your husband with you" snapped the nurses' voice.
Harry felt smug though he tried to control his mouths movements. He could not let them know that he was awake. He heard his Aunt huff in annoyance and walked out of the room, the clicking of her heels shortly accompanied by the soft padded footfalls of the nurses' hospital shoes.
The door clicked shut behind them.
He opened his arms and groaned. He had no glasses and everything around him was just a horrific blur. A large white, grey, and sunlight bathed blur. He sighed and closed his eyes again feeling a small sense of relief. 'Suppose I should just sleep it all off' he thought to himself as the comfortable blackness beckoned him back again.
Later that evening Draco was perched back on top of the wooden climbing frame, eyes looking out over the wide expanse of field and tarmac pathways. He frowned as he heard a church somewhere down the hill chime seven o'clock in the evening. He momentarily wondered where the mysterious jogging adolescent was. He was mostly likely busy, Draco tried to reason as he tapped out a random beat on the wood. He told himself that he wasn't bothered by the immense amount of muggle activity he had endured, but in truth he was amazed at how simple it had been. And yet the absence of the jogger perturbed him a little. It was unsettling. Almost surreal. He shook his head. "It doesn't matter" he stated to himself out loud, a little too loudly, "doesn't matter" he breathed. Though deep down, he knew it did matter. He didn't know why it just -did.
A/N: A Slight Shorter Chapter but filled with nice emotions and such.