Darkness Or Light. What Is your Choice? | By : Kalariona Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 3906 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Okay. A quick note to all. This is my re-write from the fan fiction net. It needed sorting out badly. I hope you all enjoy it. A Harry/Draco slash fic. Reviews are welcomed but flames are not.
Disclaimer = Harry Potter does not belong to me. If it did, I would be writing my own stuff instead of writing here!
Darkness Or Light. What Is Your Choice?
Prologue - Dreams
Harry woke for the fifth morning in a row, drenched with sweat and shaking. He lay in his small bed; his covers twisted with his feet and stared at the ceiling for a few moments, trying to dispel the sick feeling in his stomach. He then groped on the side table for his glasses and put them on. Sitting up, he rubbed his forehead, over his scar and winced. The nightmare wouldn’t stop haunting him, causing him grief every morning. Fortunately he hadn’t screamed and woken up Hermione this time. He had woken up the last four times, screaming, bringing in a half asleep and deeply distressed girl in pyjamas. Hermione had been very helpful, from making him try some Muggle sleeping tablets for dreamless sleep, to trying to make a dreamless sleep potion with her limited supplies.
Hermione had asked him, the first two times she had been woken up by his nightmares, what he had been dreaming about. Harry had yet to tell her. He had mumbled something about Cedric and she had left it alone, just holding him in a tight hug until Harry had drifted off again. She was always gone when Harry had woken up. This time, Harry wrapped his own arms around himself and rocked himself back and forth gently. His dreams had two elements. One of them was something he never let himself think about. Something that made him feel dirty. The other was a more normal occurrence in his dreams. Voldemort, only not! There was always someone else standing beside the Dark Lord, yelling out instructions in a cold voice. A figure, whom was always standing in darkness and never showed his face. Voldemort never said a word in his dream. It was always the other figure. Someone familiar in stance but still a stranger.
This dream had ended differently this time. The burning agony of his scar usually caused Harry to wake, screaming. This time it had been a couple of voices that woke him. Two different statements, both with a slightly similar edge. They both burned next to his heart.
"You are mine Harry Potter! You will never escape my name or your fate! One simple act has changed you destiny!"
"You are mine Harry Potter! I love you and will never let you go! What ever happens, I will always be at your side!"
He didn’t understand. Neither statement made any sense and the whole thing was driving him crazy. It was times like these that he wished he could speak to Ron. He always had an answer, either amusing or straight laced, but it always made him feel better. Hermione was a constant worrier, making mountains out of molehills. It was reassuring for Harry sometimes to know someone cared that much about him, but at other times, it was a slight pain.
Ron was in Romania over the summer, visiting his brother with the rest of his family. Hermione’s parents had generously invited Harry to stay with them for the final week of the summer. Harry had been dubious at first, not wanting to subject himself to the torture of Hermione’s `Warm Up For Work´ regime. (OWLs were this year!) He had changed his mind when Hermione had nearly begged him and he thought of getting away from the Dursleys. Although they had been avoiding him like the plague, they had still managed to give him a list of chores to do. When Harry had bought up the name of his godfather as one extraordinary long list had been given to him, his Uncle had backhanded him into the kitchen table, destroying it on impact. His Uncle had finally decided that he no longer believed his nephew about his convicted Godfather and Harry had been punished. It had taken Harry a couple of days to remove all of the splinters from his hands after cleaning up the remains of the table.
Hermione actually hadn’t been that bad. She had taken him out to the town where she lived, visiting the cinema a few times and taking long walks. Her cat, Crookshanks actually followed them on these walks, scampering after birds and other things, even dogs. She only picked up her books in the evenings before she went to bed, urging Harry to do the same. Hermione spent a lot of her time in Harry’s company during that week, although she hardly ever mentioned Ron unless Harry himself brought him up. He assumed she was just missing him so he never pursued it.
Harry rubbed his eyes and glanced at the clock sitting on the side where his glasses had been a few moments before. The luminous green numbers displayed the time of 2.17 A.M. Still another five hours until he had to get up. School was that morning and Harry was exhausted. Sighing, he removed his glasses and lay back down. He closed his eyes, willing sleep to return.
~~~~~~~~
With a moan of frustration, the eyes of Draco Malfoy popped open to pitch black. He already knew without moving that his pyjama bottoms and sheets were damp. His whole body was as taught as a string and he was hard. He growled and pushed back the bed sheets, getting up and heading into the bathroom. Why? Every morning he had the same dream. He continuously woke up hard and wet. It was driving him insane. Malfoy’s did not wake up, moaning in pleasure! Malfoy’s did not dream about the same person over and over again, especially when that person happened to be a boy!
Draco removed his pyjama bottoms and turned on the shower. Just like every morning, he felt unclean. He wasn’t gay! There was no guy he fanaticised over. Actually, there was no one he fanaticised over. No one had actually sparked his interest as yet, so why was he dreaming about some guy, and a random guy at that? Draco had yet to see his face.
He jumped under the hot water and began scrubbing himself clean with a flannel. He made himself think about the day to come. School. Draco winced as the water scalded his shoulder and he turned the heat down slightly. Fifth year! Another year of receiving high marks, being worshiped by his fellow Slytherins and thrashing the Golden Boy, Harry Potter. Draco shuddered involuntarily. How he hated that boy!
Prince Potter and his faithful followers, the Mudblood Granger and the pet Weasel. He snarled suddenly and absentmindedly punched the side of the shower stall. Potter had got him into trouble at the end of last year when his father had found him lying on the floor of the Hogwarts Express, covered in hexes. He expected retaliation from the Wonder Boy, but in the form of words, not action. The Weasel, he understood, Granger, maybe but not Potter. He enjoyed antagonizing him. Making him glare and mutter angrily. As much as he hated to admit it, his attacks on Granger and Weasley were done to get a rise out of Potter.
Draco turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel and heading back to his room. Drying himself off, he noticed that his bed sheets had been changed. The Malfoy House Elves were very efficient. It wasn’t surprising since they were all terrified of his father. His mother relatively ignored them unless she needed a drink. He personally couldn’t care less. They were just servants. The only exception had been Dobby. Dobby had actually had a personality and Draco had got on with him, which was, until Potter had tricked his father and freed him. Draco scowled again as he got back into bed, not bothering to put a new pair of pyjamas on. It always came back to Potter! He pulled the sheets over himself and willed himself to sleep...
I will upload the next part soon. Please look out for it
Luv Rie
xx
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