Scarhead's House for War Kids
This…well I don't know where it came from. Not a crackfic that's for sure. Here Harry has been running an house for the mentally unstable kids affected by the war. He raises and takes care of them with their own special needs. They're one big family that have residents come and go. He turned Grimmwald palace into a bright, happier place for all who need him. But then Shacklebolt (minister) has a special case for him. And Harry needs all the help he can get. I'm not sure how long this will be. Maybe a trilogy? Either way this has mature content and is not the happiest of fics. Here we go.
Harry Potter woke up at 3 in the morning to the cheerful sound of Kingsley Shacklebolt yelling at him to get his lazy arse up. It was only when he heard the words 'new tenant' that he bolted out of bed. Harry made sure that all the silencing charms on the other doors were set before rushing down the stairs. It would have to be urgent for Kingsley to disturb him at this hour.
After the War, Harry had set up an orphanage of sorts in the remodeled Grimmwald palace for post war misfits. Any children who needed special attention and care. They were always available for adoption. If they came of age Harry helped them on their way with tears in his eyes. For now they lived with Harry, getting as better as they could, adjusting to society and journeying to Hogwarts. Harry raised them, read their letters. Took care of them and loved them. It's been six blissful years. He currently had three residents at home and six at Hogwarts. But now it seemed he would gain his tenth. Summer vacations were going to be barking.
Kingsley had let himself in and was shadowed by a dirty bedraggled figure. The stature was male, very obviously underfed with long matted hair of no real color. The stink was overwhelming and the clothes were ripped and bloody; Special Case indeed. "Harry," Kingsley started. "I'm sorry about the hour but I thought it would be better to keep him out of the public eye and to arrive here immediately. I'm also sorry about not informing you beforehand, though I know you always have a room ready"
"Of course." Harry nodded trying to wake up fully. "Why would he not be welcomed in St. Mango's though?" Kingsley sighed. Not a great sign. "Harry, I know you only take children but he's your age and well… he knows you." Harry raised an eyebrow. Unfortunately everyone in the Magical World knew him. Why was this different? "He does." He asked blandly. Though in the back of his mind he knew it was bad not to address the person when they're in the same room.
"Personally" Kingsley said. "You went to school with him. You knew each other. You were quite famous for it." Harry had a mini internal panic attack. It didn't look like anyone he knew though the stature seemed familiar. He couldn't see the features though in the dim parlor. "The Auror's of Germany found him while chasing rouge death eaters in the mountains. He was caught though he resisted. They thought he was a delinquent or a runaway. It was much more complicated than that. I brought him here because I thought that he might not get the treatment he deserves anywhere else."
Harry sighed. He needed coffee. Or a strong cup of tea. "Coffee Kingsley?"
"No thank you Harry." Harry looked in the direction of the figure. "Would you like anything before you get settled…?"
"Draco" Kingsley supplied helpfully, glad that it sounded like he would have a home here. "Draco" Harry replied offhand, thinking about the Earl Grey waiting for him in the kitchen and… wait a damn minute. "Draco!" The figure winced but stayed silent, memorizing the carpet pattern. Harry felt like he had been knocked over the noggin with a tire iron. Draco Malfoy. The Draco Malfoy who went to Hogwarts with him? The Draco Malfoy that hated him with a burning passion and he replied with equal passion?
The same Draco Malfoy that committed suicide over Christmas holiday in 6th year? The same one who sent a letter to the Order revealing all the death eater hideouts, clearing Snape's name as a true spy, donating the Malfoy heir's entire fortune to multiple charities around the world and containing enough information to persecute half the death eater army? Then… the same Draco Malfoy that burned Malfoy Manor to the ground, killing the other half he couldn't prosecute and ultimately hanging himself in the surviving dungeons? Whose body was then mutilated by Greyback, thrown in the woods to the wolves and forest creature never to be seen again?
"Dear Merlin" he breathed. Taking slow steps he reached the figure. He no longer noticed the smell or clothes but the posture and way he held himself. He still stood the same; Weight on his right leg, back straight as a wand. "Lumos" He brushed aside the matted hair and lit up his face. It was indeed the boy, turned man, whose was lost so many years ago.
The silver eyes no longer shined, they were a dull bland grey that came from years of hard ship and toil. And there was a spark in the center of the grey, which came of a man who was beaten but not broken.
But there was something. Like a buzzing in his mind. That he recognized but he couldn't remember where he had felt it. He brushed his magic forward to touch Draco's magical aura. It was more potent than normal and almost wild. Feral. He only felt that around certain people. Remus Lupin and Fenir Greyback once while fighting.
Draco Malfoy was a werewolf.
He carefully touched the man's face whose eyes were still downcast. Kingsley had to have known. He would've checked for everything from polyjuice potion, to allergies. And he would've known that Harry would've found out.
He was suggesting harboring a werewolf.
When Kingsley knew perfectly well that one of Harry's kids was a fledgling vampire.
And if he roomed Draco, he'll have both the London Vampire Clan and the Werewolf Pack of London knocking at his door, each demanding exactly why he decided to board the 'scourge of magical beings' in the same house.
He was going to find creative means to kill the minister without going to Azkaban. Maybe send the Pack and Clan on him.
"Harry" Kingsley said slowly as a warning not to lose his temper with Draco in the room. Besides the fact that Draco could sense his emotions anyway and would've smelled the vampire the moment he got here.
Speaking of which… Damian would've woken up to the smell of werewolf by now…
He turned away from Draco and faced the stairs hands on his hips glaring at the darkness. "Damian Carlos Garcia I know you're there. Get down here and introduce yourself."
He half-turned to the man, smiling. The fireplace outlined the long-lost werewolf's form. And the silver sparks in his eyes. "We have a new tenant that needs to be settled in."
Damian melted out of the shadows in the way that those who are born of them do. He had toffee skin and dark eyes with the dark hair and completion of a healthy fifteen year old in his prime. He also had that twinkle in his dark eyes that came with the apprenticeship of the Weasley Twins. His canines glinted as he smiled at the man that raised him. "Can't get anything past you old man"
Kingsley cleared his throat and nodded to Harry. "I'll be going then." He squeezed Draco's shoulder as he walked to the fireplace. "Good luck son. You're in good hands." With a whoosh of green flames he was gone.
Damian bounded forward and held out his hand to Draco unfazed, even though the man was almost ten years his senior. "Welcome to the nuthouse." Draco blinked and after a moment's hesitation gave a ghost of a smile and shook the fledgling's hand.
Harry knew Damian didn't have a lot of friends, and spending time with his too other younger siblings and the strict Hermione as his tutor got tiring and all the Weasley family got a tad overwhelming at times.
Now with someone older and more mature in the house but just as much as a misfit as he was; Damian was probably ecstatic. It didn't matter to him if his Clan would be outraged. He chattered on to Draco and led the bemused slightly overwhelmed not-actually-dead-guy up the stairs. Damian continued to talk without drawing breathes- he didn't need too. "You can have the room next to Dad's it's across from mine. It has its own shower and you can borrow Dad's clothes for now. Maybe I can convince Aunt Hermione to skive off lessons tomorrow so we can go clothes shopping. Lexie's room is two doors down and Niki's is across from her's. Everyone else sleep's upstairs when they get back from Hogwarts. I heard you went to it too. Hermione and Dad are teaching me magic. I don't mind. When I need to get away I work with Fred and George in their shop. I love helping them. Uncle Ron is so easy to prank." Harry faintly heard Draco snort at that.
They disappeared and Harry sat heavily on the couch knowing that Damian would help Draco settle in alright. He muttered thank you when dobby and Kreacher crept out and placed a cup of Earl grey and biscuits on the table beside him.
He knew that there was going to be a clusterfuck of drama the next morning. He knew that the Vamps and the Wolfs would chew him out (possibly literally) when they found out. He knew that the press would destroy him and stalk the mute blonde when they find out he's alive. And he knew that this was probably the worst idea he's ever had.
He also knew that he never shook that damned 'saving people thing.' And he knew no matter what he couldn't turn away someone who needed him. Someone that trusts him to make everything alright in their world; Or at least tries. Especially one that against all odds, survived.
He couldn't turn away Draco Malfoy, because he had something so many others didn't.
A man once said that in almost every profession dealing with people, there is one case that strikes you personally and strikes you hard. The case that changes you and rocks you to your very core. And that you couldn't go on being the person you were if you didn't try your very hardest during that case, no matter how much it hurt. Draco was this case.
Some kids as traumatized and beaten with that level of mental damage that Draco had to have (he burned his house down for merlin's sake!) would remain in therapy at St. Mungo's the rest of their lives. He had the spark that so many others didn't.
Draco had hope—a small amount but it was there. And with hope comes the will to heal. And dammit all to hell if Harry wasn't going to give him that chance; even if he was risking nearly everything.
Harry sat and wondered for the first time in six years, if he knew what the bloody hell he was doing.
Yay! First chapter done! How was it? Good? Bad? (Note this is not the matchmaker series. That series is crack. This is serious and angsty. Which do you prefer? (Not that it matters I'm still gonna write both I just want to see what's more popular) love you! *huggles*