Title: Through Death, We Live

Rated: M (NC-17)

Warnings: Slash, Violence, Angst, Death

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did, he would be involved with a certain blonde. And they wouldn't be wearing clothes. Needless to say, my fantasy has not come true yet.

Summary: When all that's left in Harry's life is a cold metal piece of steel, he becomes dependant. What happens when a blonde vampire is the one to unravel his thoughts, and through dying shows him the reason to live. Slash! (HPDM), Vampire Draco, Cutter Harry.

Chapter 1. The End of the War

The end of the war did not come as a surprise to anyone. However it was here and the celebrations were taking place. Nobody cared about their savior anymore. In fact, when he defeated Lord Voldemort, nobody knew where he was at. Then afterwards, when Dumbledore was asked where young Harry Potter was at, he merely smiled mysteriously and replied, "He is finally safe."

Harry Potter was blankly staring up at the white ceiling of the Infirmary. Clutched in his hands was a dagger that even Madame Pomphrey could not remove. Anyone entering the infirmary would think that the raven haired boy was dead because his eyes stared unseeingly at a point on the ceiling, his breathing was faint, and he made no response to prove that he was truly alive. For all practical purposes, he just existed. Cuts, numbering in the hundreds, littered his arms. The scars became longer and deeper as they approached the major vein in his wrist.

Out of nowhere, Harry clenched his fist. A major achievement in the last two weeks. His fist clenched around the intricate, ornate dagger in his hand. A deep crimson red spilled on to the white hospital sheets and an unnoticed whisper came from hoarse, cracked lips: "Please stop."

Madame Pomphrey ran to his bedside and she said a diagnostic spell trying to find out what Harry wanted to stop. Finding nothing, she came upon the conclusion that he was reliving that night as he often did. The night which all his suffering should have ended, but for some reason had increased. She fire called Albus to have a serious discussion of what to do with the mentally unstable boy.

It was a dark, black night considered by many to be bleak and desolate, especially to Harry who would make an attempt to kill.

Sneaking into the Dark Lord's hide out had been easy enough. Following the voices, he came to the throne room. And the meeting started without a hitch. Everything was going smoothly. The Dark Lord had looked in his direction, but at the time his eyes had been sweeping the hall. Harry was sure the Dark Lord had not noticed him and figured that the meeting was almost at its end.

"Before you leave here tonight, my loyal followers," began the Dark Lord. A sense of foreboding began in the pit of Harry's stomach. "I wish to provide you with some . . . entertainment. He is a traitor to our cause and will die a traitor's death. Bring him in." rasped Voldemort.

The Death Eaters brought a boy into the room. His hair was matted and dirty to the point that it was impossible to make out his hair color from Harry's distance. The boy's skin was smudged with weeks of filth and there was a reek smell permeating the surrounding area. It was obvious that the boy had not had a decent meal in a long time. He had a skeletal figure, but he didn't shake with fear. He seemed resigned to his fate. Harry Potter felt his heart constrict with an unknown emotion akin to sorrow or pity. He moved in position, ready to strike in the hopes that he could save the life of an innocent.

"You are going to die, Draco Malfoy, and I am to be the one that kills you!" Voldemort smirked. "Crucio." The vile word spoken as if it was a polite greeting. Harry had not been listening, his brain having shut off when he said the word, die. He did not register that this was his rival.

Leaping from his spot among Voldemort's followers, He put the weight of saving this boy and killing Voldemort tonight onto his shoulders. Even if he were to die, it would not matter. No one knew he was here. He was in all essence, alone again. 'Always alone,' thought Harry.

"I won't let you kill anyone, anymore!" Harry screamed.

"He is but a traitor, Harry. What would the world think of me if I did not kill the traitor?" Voldemort chuckled. "Now be a good boy and sit down and don't move. VOISSEYETTE!" The spell throw Harry into the Voldemort's vacated chair. Harry attempted to get up and found that this spell had also stuck him to the chair. He watched in barely concealed horror as Voldemort began to speak again.

"You had a place in my rule, and you gave it all up. You traitor, you don't deserve to live. But I think that we would prefer to watch you kill yourself, wouldn't we my followers?" Murmurs of agreement erupted from his followers. "Imperio!"

Harry watched as a light came into the boy's eyes. But it was extinguished seconds afterward.

"Your life is so hard, little one, isn't it? Your parents dead and no one left to help you. No friends, just enemies. Wouldn't it just be easier to kill yourself?" Voldemort said sympathetically. Voldemort produced an ornate knife, it was embellished with beautiful gems and a neat intricate carved pattern, from inside his robes. "A suiting knife for the death of a prominent figure, Yes? I want you to kill yourself with this knife."

He handed the knife to Draco. Harry watching in barely concealed horror as Draco plunged the knife into his left wrist. Then, Draco seemed to hesitate as if rethinking this decision through.

"Go on!" Voldemort was becoming impatient as he still had to deal with Harry too.

"Please Stop," screamed Harry. He was trying everything to get to this boy. He would die because Harry was too weak and slow to save him. "Don't do it. Just put the knife down. Stop! You are stronger than this." These words echoed many times in the room until Draco plunged the knife into his other wrist.

"Don't worry, Harry. You will soon join him in the hereafter."

Harry watched the blonde lie back so that his final resting spot was in a gradually building pool of his own blood. The dagger still clutched in his hand. His breathing becoming labored, and shallow until finally his chest stopped rising.

Voldemort dismissed his followers before ending his spell on Harry. He watched as the raven haired boy ran to the traitor, not caring that the man who wanted to kill him could easily do so while his back was turned. Harry scooped up the dead body, hugging him close apologizing for his inability to save him. He felt as though, he knew this boy, but he couldn't place his face. His hair was blonde, he realized. A once beautiful light color he assumed when there was no blood or dirt in it. He pried the knife out of his hands. It just wasn't right to leave it there. It had been the implement of torture for this man.

"He had to die, Harry. He deserved it. Besides, he was a nobody anyway."

"Shut up!" Harry's eyes narrowed in ill concealed anger and he hissed, "One of us will die this night, Tom. It's going to be you. I will avenge everyone who was ever hurt by you."

" I never realized you harbored a death wish, Harry. Nevertheless, Avada Ked-"

"Protego a vie"

"Crucio."

The spell was dodged, but Harry knew it was a very near miss.

"Imperio"

A direct hit. Voldemort was in his head telling him to do such terrible things. He fought it off and used a spell he had manufactured himself. 'Sostesosesns.' His own invisibility spell. He knew it was only a matter of time before one of them died. Harry clenched his fist. He was nervous. 'How do I kill him?' He felt a cool liquid on his hands. Looking down, he realized that he was holding the knife still and that he had made a huge gash in his hand. He tiptoed carefully up to Voldemort who was firing off spells to reveal invisible objects.

"I hate you, Tom," whispered Harry contemptuously. Voldemort's eyes widened as he felt something push into his neck. He fell to the ground dead, killed ironically enough by muggle means. Harry ended his spell popping back into the room. He looked around for the dead innocent, but he had been removed by friend or foe, Harry wasn't sure but the blonde was gone. The only thing that remained was the puddle of blood as if to prove the boy had died. Harry pointed his wand at Voldemort and smiling said, "Parting shall be such sweet sorrow, Tom." A burst of flame issued from his wand and incinerated Voldemort, insuring that he would never return.

Harry picked the knife up and apparated to Hogsmeade. He was exhausted when he arrived. His adrenaline had worn off and he collapsed. The dagger was firmly clenched in his hand placed next to his heart. He was found the next morning by a terrified Madame Rosamerta and placed into the care of Madame Pomphrey

"He isn't getting any better, is he Poppy?" Dumbledore inquired.

"No, Albus, I fear he isn't. He doesn't sleep, talk, move, and I have to give him potions to sustain his life because he won't eat. He's inflicting serious damage upon himself with that dagger. It isn't safe for him to have it. But even you can't get it away from him." Poppy was beyond frustrated. A sigh escaped before she continued her analysis about his condition. "I sincerely believe that he will not be ready to rejoin the students for school, It's less than two weeks away. He needs time. Away from here. Do you truly believe he will be ready?"

"Only time will tell."

'I hate it when they talk about me,' thought Harry. 'I no longer feel the desire to live. I want to hurt for that boy. He didn't deserve that. Nobody does. I could die with the same knife even. A fitting finalization for my failure.' He stoked the blade with his thumb watching as the blood was smeared onto the length of the blade.

Harry knew he would have to play the role of the happy hero. Voldemort was gone, dead at his hand. Everyone was rejoicing, but him. The begging boy in that room never left his subconscious. He couldn't be happy. Not after the death he had witnessed. He had felt relief and happiness when that boy had died. Not because he was sadistic, but because now he would feel no pain. He was a sick person. He knew he was. He had wished death on that boy.

He lowered the blade again

AN: I have this whole story planned out. I wrote out the first chapter and will continue to write and type out the chapters. They seem to flow through my mind. This will be a nine chapter story but it will have an epilogue. So roughly ten chapters. I plan to update every week on Thursday or Friday probably. Also, I am not new to writing, I have just never posted chapters here. If you would review, my muse may be satisfied. I do not require reviews though. In closing, I would like to thank you for reading Chapter One: The End of the War. It was wordy, I know. The entire backplot had to be revealed though.

.Meow.