"You are no son of mine." Lucius Malfoy yelled at his son, whose eyes had filled with tears. Draco scrambled backwards on his hands, but was met with another kick on the head from behind.

Another Death Eater had kicked him. Draco was surrounded by them, and was being abused, after he had said that he didn't want to follow Voldemort or get the Dark Mark.

He was crying, tears streaking his face, which was white with worry. He was covered in bruises from all of the kicking, and was aching all over.

A Death Eater brandished his wand, and pointed at the fourteen year old boy. "Crucio!" he yelled, and Draco's mind was filled with pain. He screamed and writhed on the ground, while still being kicked by the other men and women surrounding him, all with Dark Marks on their left arms.

Draco was released, and lay, shaking, on the shiny floor, which had been polished earlier for this meeting. He knew that he had to be strong, for Fidem, his seven month old adoptive daughter.

He was ashamed of himself. He had found the young girl in the middle of the woods, wrapped in ragged cloths and crying. Draco was a Malfoy, and he had told himself that he wasn't supposed to feel bad for the newborn. But he gave in, and he had broken down with sobs wracking his body until he could muster the courage to carry the girl inside and hide her in his room.

Another man pointed his wand at the shaking young Malfoy, and said, "Sectumsempra!"

Draco was hit with a slashing pain on his chest, and the feeling of not being able to breathe. He gasped, and coughed up some blood from the side of his mouth. All of the evil people around him laughed, and he felt tears begin to slide down his face even faster.

The man muttered the countercurse, and the pain in Draco's chest subsided slightly. He stepped back and let the next person step up.

The next person, who Draco could vaguely make out as a witch through his eyes that were blurred with tears, screamed, "Alarte Ascendare!"

Draco felt his body leave the ground and shoot upwards. When he was about five inches from the ceiling, the direction changed, and he slammed against the floor. The last thing he saw before he blacked out was a boot coming down on his face.

*****

Draco woke in his room, on the cold stone floor. He immediately tried to sit up, but pain coursed through his body, and he was forced to flop back down. He tentatively moved his right arm, which felt alright, and began feeling his chest.

His chest was covered in dry blood from the Sectumsempra curse, and he instantly knew that several ribs were broken from the pain that flared when he felt it. He then moved his hand to his face, which was also covered in blood. His nose was bent at a weird angle, and both of his eyes had giant black bruises on them.

He could feel that his left arm and both legs had all been broken, and he could bet that several fingers and toes had been as well. His entire body was also covered in scars.

But what scared him the most was what was now standing out on his left arm. The fabric of his black robe sleeve had been ripped off at the elbow, and now his arm had a large blue skull on it with a snake coming out of its mouth.

Draco felt tears fall again, but stopped them. He lifted his wand with his right hand, and waved it at his legs, muttering, "Helopa," a curse of Draco's own creation. It healed the bones in his legs and toes.

Next, he pointed his wand at his arm, and said, "Brackium Emendo," which turned out much better than Gilderoy Lockhart's had two years ago on Harry Potter.

Draco let his mind wander for a second to the topic of Harry Potter. Draco had, in fact, had a crush on the boy since first year, but was never allowed to admit it, as his father was homophobic. But Draco shook his head and got back to work.

What surprised Draco was that the healing curse had also seemed to work on his ribs and fingers, though it was for brachial injuries.

He muttered, "Vulnera Sanentur," and the gashes on his body closed quickly. Then he muttered, "Tergeo," and all of the dried blood on his body disappeared.

Satisfied, he sat up, and proceeded to fix his nose (Episkey). Then he felt all over his body, before standing up and dusting himself off.

First, he ran to the closet. He opened the secret door at the back which led to the softly lit room where Fidem lived.

A crack was heard, and his house-elf appearated. "Master Draco, sir, Trill has kept a good watch on Baby Fidem for you."

"Thank you, Trill," Draco said with a smile, and ran to his daughter's crib. He lifted the young girl up, and rocked her against him. He felt tears run down his face, yet again, but didn't stop them this time. "Oh, Fi," he whispered. "We can't stay here."

Fidem gurgled and grabbed her father's platinum blonde hair. During the assault last night, his hair had lost its shine from the globs of gel that Lucius made him wear, and had become slightly rumpled. He looked in the mirror beside Fidem's crib, and smiled. Everything would change now, not just his hair. He would have to take new risks to protect his daughter, and wouldn't stay here, for fear that she would be found and taken away from him. He turned and walked back out into his room, set Fi on the bed, and began to pack his bottomless bag with things that the pair would need for their journey.

*****

Harry woke up to a pounding on his door. "BOY! GET UP, YOU LAZY SLOB, AND MAKE US BREAKFAST!"

Harry sighed and put his glasses on. Vernon Dursley was awful to Harry, but he accepted it because there was nothing he could do.

He pulled on a pair of baggy jeans and a worn out shirt, both of which were several sizes too big for him. He stuck his wand in his belt, and headed out the door and downstairs to make breakfast for the Dursleys.

He made sure not to burn the toast, while frying bacon at the same time. He set dishes out on the table, making sure that Dudley and Uncle Vernon had larger plates than Harry, as to their wishes.

Harry sighed. He wished that Ron and Hermione might be able to send him food, but Hedwig had hurt her wing, and wasn't able to fly anymore. Harry hadn't been able to send letters back, though owls brought their letters to him. It was his only source of the outside world. Hermione and Ron would occasionally send sweets (which, even though it wasn't much, Harry was grateful of), The Daily Prophet, or notes to Harry.

He jerked his head up. He realized that he had fallen asleep. He smelled something burning, and looked fearfully at the bacon, which was now burnt to a crisp. The toast was done, but it had been sitting in the toaster for too long, and was now cold.

He turned his head worriedly when he heard his cousin, aunt, and uncle clomping down the stairs. (Well, Petunia wasn't, but Dudley and Uncle Vernon were.)

Harry backed up against the table when they walked in. Instantly (it was almost comical), Uncle Vernon's face went from pink to beetroot purple. He walked over to the stove, where the burnt remains of the bacon lay. A/N RIP, Bacon! He turned to Harry slowly, who had maneuvered completely around the table, and was attempting to skip out of the door.

But Vernon had other ideas. "YOU BURNT MY BACON!" he yelled. He charged around the table and sunk a large fist into Harry's gut.

Harry gasped and choked, doubling over. Then he curled up in the fetal position when Vernon kicked his shin.

He felt pain coursing through his body, and he definitely felt a broken rib or two. He scrambled to his feet, and ran up the stairs, locking his door behind him and dragging his bed and desk across it.

He stuffed everything in his school trunk and shrunk it, which he shoved in his pocket. Then he grabbed his broomstick and pointed his wand at the window.

His hand shook, and he felt tears start to slip down his face. He knew that if he blasted the bars off of his window, he would be expelled. He hesitated for a second, but only a second when he heard Vernon pounding on the door. A large crack was already forming on it.

"C-confringo," he said. A beam of light shot out of the tip of his wand, and the wall exploded. He heard Petunia scream, Dudley yell, and Vernon roar in anger. The door finally gave in, and Vernon thundered into the room just as Harry took off. He flew away, leaving the Dursleys standing by the wreckage he had caused.