Thanks to darksarcasm (he has no profile in here jet) who translated this story from german. My english isn't yet good enough to have done that. (My grammar is horrible, sorry)

This was one of the first stories I've written. It can be found under the same name in the german section. I hope you enjoy reading it. Please let me know what you think of it

Be my companion

The Rescue

Malfoy Manor was towering dark and threatening over the small village. Muggles had been telling dreadful stories about it for years. They were kept alive by the few people who had dared to set foot on the grounds, so people kept their respectful distance.

For days now, fourteen to be exact, it seemed as though cruel things would be happening in the building. People heard cries, desperate, timid and tormented cries for help. But nobody dared to go after them.

A boy lay on his bed, curled in pain and sobbed. His father had just stormed out of his room, after he had "taught" his son a lesson. That's what he called it anyway, whenever he punished Draco with curses and fists for the fact that Narcissia had left him.

Draco tried to move his left arm, which his father had broken shortly after he had arrived at Malfoy Manor, as careful as possible, into an almost painless position and after a few very painful minutes he managed. Draco sobbed. Never before had he been so afraid. His father had always been a brutal man, had beat him for the smallest of mistakes, but ever since he had returned from Hogwarts, his father had worked to give Draco the feeling that all he had ever had to endure through his fathers hands was nothing in comparison.

Never would Draco have thought that his mother would let him walk right into a trap. She should have told him that she had fled to her lover. Damn, she should have taken him with her! But no, she just left him alone with the crazy man his father had become.

And now he lay on his bed, barely able to move, let alone get up. Twice a day the houselfs brought him something to eat, but the little bit that he did not vomit was barely enough to keep him alive. Accoding to that he was already very thin. His pale body was covered in streaks, cuts and bruises. The eyes that had always shone so proudly were dull, their expression hopeless. Draco had accepted, that he would not live to see his seventh year at Hogwarts. Ten weeks of holidays lay ahead of him and the visits of his genitor would probably continue.

Lucius Malfoy didn't care if his only son died, he didn't care if he went to Askaban for it, he didn't care for anything. His worst enemy had destroyed everything he had ever worked for all his life. Potter, the damn bastard, had killed his master. Only with lots of sweet talk and high bribes had he been able to get away. And now this slut of a wife had cheated on him and had left him. His anger didn't know any bounds. And then this useless boy came home. The child that looked so very like that faithless woman. The blighter would pay for that, he would pay for everything. With a satisfied smile the host let himself be served a glass of scotch and made himself comfortable in his office.

Draco awoke when he heard the unmistakable plop-noise of a houself. He realised startled that it was already dark outside, which meant that his father had not made his usual daily visit. He didn't know if that was a good or a bad sign. But normally any break of routine was more of the latter.

"Master Draco!", came the urgend whisper from behind him and carefully the young Malfoy-heir turned around to the all to familiar voice. "Tingle? What are you doing here? I thought father forbid that you come and visit me?" Fear carried in Draco's voice. Tingle was his elf. She had raised him, had played with him when he was still a child and once he had become older she had stayed his loyal friend. Once his father found out that she had ignored an order, he was sure that Lucius would kill her.

"Tingle came to help Master Draco. Tingle is going to bring little Master to safety." "How do you want to do that? My father is somewhere in the house and is going to realise that I am gone. Where am I supposed to go? He is going to find me everywhere. And most important, how am I supposed to get out? I can't even move, let alone walk." Hope and fear swung in his voice. Tingle had always been rather clever. If there was someone in this house who was able to help him, it was her. "Tingle has put a sleeping draught into Lord Malfoys drink. Lord Malfoy will only wake up once the sun rises. Little Master has to take the draught that Tingle has for him, then Tingle will bring little Master to a good person. Dobby has told Tingle that Master Draco will be safe there. Tingle will then go to Dobby at Hogwarts and wait for Master Draco. The person will bring Draco to Hogwarts."

Draco nodded. He trusted her. What kind of joice did he have anyway? Probably this person was one of the teacher of Hogwarts, after all Dobby was working there. That meant that he would be really safe. "Ok. What kind of draught am I supposed to take?" Tingle held a small phial to his lips. Obidiently he swallowed the blue simmering liquid. "The potion will make it impossible for Lord Malfoy to recognize little Master. Once Master Drao is in Hogwarts, Tingle will provide the antidote. Little Master has to sleep now. Once he wakes up he will be safe." Draco had barely closed his eyes when the false slumber owepowered him


Somebody stroked his back. The hand felt huge. And warm. And comfortable.

Draco yawned and stretched his muscles but kept his eyes shut. He heard a laugh above him. "Well, sweety. Are you awake? Seems that you feel better." The male voice sounded familiar, but he didn't think about it at the moment. What on earth did that person think to call him 'sweety'? He said as much to the stranger, or better he tried to say it. What he heard was a small "miaou".

Shocked Draco opened his eyes and his eyes and what he saw were his front paws. Totally confused he turned his head and looked at the rest of his body. Yes, he was definitely a cat with silver-grey fur and shockingly for him, he was obviously rather small and dainty. And he had a tail! Interested he moved the new body part. "Hey you. Don't tickle me." Came the voice from above again.

Only now he realised that he was definetly laying on the lap of somebody. He had obviously tickled the man with his tail. As the hand started to stroke him again, he was torn from his thoughts. Startled he looked up into the mans face.

And stared.

Green eyes!

Black hair.

He was resting on the lap of none other than Harry Potter.