Title: Fated

Author: Miss T

Rating: R

Genre: Angst/Romance/Dark

Warnings: Slash, Character Death, Violence

Pairings: Draco/Harry

Timeline: 7th year

A/N: This is my first attempt at something a bit darker to my previous fics – its not incredibly dark right enough, but it does have death in it and a lot of violence so… *shrugs* oo, and some sexual situations between two guys. So if that offends you, don't read! Consider yourself warned! Oh, and this story has been based on a sort of Romeo/Juliet (mostly from the movie) romance type… thing. :)

CHAPTER 1 – Scarred and Scorned

Blaise could feel the heat of Ronald Weasley's flesh intensify rapidly as he dug his nails further into the redhead's throat, feeling him thrive and splutter beneath him, hands waving about powerlessly in the air. Blaise grinned down at him as he increased his grip, marvelling at the sheer power he had in the situation. He could feel the muscles in Ron's throat convulse, his adam's apple jarring between his fingers – but the boy could not talk or scream in defence. Blaise was sitting on his stomach, flattening the Gryffindor with his knees. He smiled in satisfaction as he felt Ron's breathing grow weak, his eyes fluttering slowly shut…

"NO!!" A cry behind Blaise pierced the air as Hermione Granger flung herself onto his back, causing him to loose grip of Ron's neck and land with a clumsy thud on the stone floor.

Looking up quickly, and furiously blowing a strand of dark hair out of his eyes, Blaise reached into the left pocket of his robes, grasping irately for his wand. At that exact moment, Ron had sat up and had also reached into his own robes for his wand, pointing it threateningly in the Slytherin's direction, his face red with anger, his neck marred with bloody half moon shapes where Blaise's nails once pierced.

"Stop this instant!" A shrill voice called from the other side of the corridor. Snape swiftly moved to the two boys, making his way through the large gasping audience in less than five seconds, and he looked positively murderous. Hermione gazed up at him from her sprawled position on the floor, then quickly glanced over at the Slytherin and Gryffindor who were now pointing their wands at each other's throats.

"Drop your wands!" Snape bellowed. Ron and Blaise continued to stare murderously at each other, their wands still pointed at each other.

"I repeat…" Snape yelled louder, "DROP YOUR WANDS!" Five seconds went by, the crowd had held their breath, and simultaneously both Ron and Blaise let their raised hands drop by their sides. Hermione scrambled up from the floor just in time to see Snape grab each boy by the nape of their collar and drag them off into his office.

~~~*~~~

"This has gone on long enough!" Snape bellowed from the chair behind his desk, his voice echoing off the grimy dungeon walls of his office. "Three times have I told you this week… three times have you been caught in a similar position!" Snape let his eyes slip from one boy to the other, his elbows propped up on his desk with his fingertips pressed tightly together. The two boys looked at him blankly, their lips pursed firmly shut, their hair dishevelled and their eyes blazing.

"If EVER you are caught fighting again…" Snape spat, banging his hands onto the table to pull himself up into a standing position. "Your education will pay the price, and I can promise you that." He snarled, pointing one long finger at the door. "Now, get out of my sight! The pair of you!"

~~~*~~~

Harry looked up and smiled as Ron made his way into the common room, but the smile quivered and suddenly found itself lost of Harry's features when he saw the mess his best friend was in.

Ron's throat was red raw, angry scratches blemished his flesh, bloodied fingerprints spidered around his neck, his hair was tousled and a shallow cut lay on his bottom lip.

"You've been fighting with him again, haven't you?" Harry said darkly, letting his quill drop onto the roll of parchment that lay outstretched on his knee.

Ron's eyes looked down, glanced quickly to the ceiling, and then looked back down again. "Yes." He muttered, slumping into the chair opposite Harry.

"This has got to stop, Ron." Harry sighed, rubbing at his forehead and leaning back in his chair.

"That's exactly what Snape said." Ron laughed bitterly, gingerly pressing his fingertips run over the tender flesh on his throat.

"Well, as much as I hate to say it – he's right. What was it about this time? Family related insults? Ugly jokes?" Harry asked weakly, looking up at his best friend.

"Both." Ron muttered, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a chocolate frog. Harry rolled his eyes and put his quill and parchment down onto the floor next to him. "Can't you just let it go?" He asked, leaning forward. Ron snorted and shook his head, angrily taking a bite from the frog's head. "Wish it was that easy, mate."

Just then, Hermione appeared from the girls dormitories cradling her large ginger cat in her arms, a very concerned expression marking her features.

She cradled Crookshanks, rubbing her face into the back of his neck before sitting down next to Ron on the sofa. "Are you alright?" She asked softly, turning to meet his eyes.

Ron nodded and grinned weakly, chewing silently on the chocolate. "He was lucky Snape showed up when he did." He said eventually. "I would have cursed him through to next week."

Hermione tutted and exchanged worried glances with Harry, scratching Crookshanks' ears thoughtfully.

"How long has this got to go on for, Ron?" She asked faintly, frowning at the red nail marks on Ron's skin that seemed to glow brighter in the dull firelight.

"As long as it needs to." Ron retorted, screwing up the chocolate frog wrapping into a ball and throwing it into the flames.

"Oh, Ron…" Hermione whimpered, her bottom lip quivering. Harry frowned and leaned forward again, letting his head drop into his hands.

"It's going to get really out of hand one day, Ron." Harry muttered, as he pulled lightly at his own hair. "Someone's going to get hurt. Really hurt." He looked up at Ron's angered expression, and noticed that Ron had stood up, his features livid.

"He's a Slytherin!!" Ron yelled, causing some first years in the corner to yelp with fright. "I hope he does get hurt! I hope they all get hurt! And you know what?!" Ron said, leaning over Harry and pointing a finger at him. "I thought you of all people would stand by me!"

Harry looked up furiously, and stood up to meet Ron's face. "Yeah, OK – maybe their Slytherins. But they're still people, Ron! You can't go round looking for trouble with them you know what they're like!" He yelled, his hands shaking. Hermione was still seated, and she whimpered quietly into Crookshanks' mane.

"Exactly!" Ron spat. Harry glanced at him, then let his eyes wander down to Hermione who was in tears on the sofa. "Oh… Hermione…" He breathed walking past Ron and sitting down next to his other best friend, putting a protective arm around her.

"Look what you're doing, Ron! You're driving you're friends away and for what? A meaningless punch and scuffle with a dirty mouthed Slytherin? Is it all really worth that?" He hushed quietly, rubbing Hermione's shoulder.

Ron licked his lips, his expression slacking, and sighed. He slouched down on the other side of Hermione, letting her fall into his arms, much to his surprise. "Hermione, I'm sorry…" He muttered, his face going very red. Harry smiled and leaned away from the cuddling pair, and gave Ron a reassuring nod. "See? Is it all really worth it?" He asked quietly.

Ron looked down at Hermione, who was gazing up at him, her eyes glazed over with tears, her lips trembling. He slowly shook his head, and gripped on tighter to her. "No." He whispered. But he was pretty sure the moment that word fell from his lips, he had no intention of keeping that promise.

~~~*~~~

The next day, Seamus Finnigan skipped into the common room, his face alight with glee. Scanning the room quickly, he made a beeline for the large leather sofa next to the fire, where Ron, Hermione, Harry, Ginny, Neville and Dean all sat, engaging in light conversation.

Clearing his throat loudly, Seamus stood in front of them all, grinning from ear to ear.

Ron raised an eyebrow and leaned back on the chair, looking up at the over excited Irish boy. "What's up with you?" He asked bemusedly.

All six of his friends turned their heads and glared up at Seamus, similar confused expressions etched on their faces.

"You haven't seen it then? Good." Seamus grinned, rubbing his hands together.

Ron frowned and tilted his head to the side.

"Seen what exactly?" Neville asked, his mouth slightly open with curiosity.

Seamus chortled, and reached into the pocket of his robes, pulling out a folded piece of pink parchment and handing it to his friends.

Ginny grabbed for it first, unfolding it quickly and scanning over it with her eyes, a small smile running over her features.

"What is it?" Ron demanded, leaning over Harry who sat between the siblings. "What does it say?"

Ginny snorted and cleared her throat, and began to read. "Valentine's Day Dance. Tomorrow Night, Great Hall 9pm – 1am. Open to all 6th and 7th years, BYOP (Bring your own partner)."

Ron wrinkled up his nose. "What's so funny about that?" He asked. Ginny rolled her eyes. "I'm just getting to that part." She sighed. "Remember those little packages mum gave us, she gave you one too Harry, that we were told not to open until we were told by the school?" She looked around at everyone's confused faces, sighing impatiently. "Well… this is where they come in handy. It's a masked Ball." She finished, giggling.

Harry felt his face heat up, and Ron's eyes went wide. Dean had coughed out a biscuit, while Neville fell of the edge of the sofa. Both Hermione and Ginny were smiling brightly, running through ideas in their head no doubt, Harry thought.

"Ooo, that should be so much fun!" Hermione breathed, clasping her hands together. Seamus chuckled again, pulling Neville up from the floor and patting him on the back. "So," He laughed. "I wonder what your dear grandmother got for you to wear!"

~~~*~~~

Harry dug around his trunk and pulled out the rather large rectangular package he had kept in the bottom of it, it lay almost forgotten since Mrs Weasley had given it to him during the holidays, making him swear he wouldn't open it.

Frowning and running his fingers underneath the brown packaging parchment, he slowly ripped it open, revealing a shiny black cardboard box. Lifting the lid ever so slightly, he let his eyebrows jump up and underneath his fringe as he peered inside.

The sunlight that danced through the window of the dormitory sliced through the object in Harry's hands, causing little beams of light to bounce off of it and onto the walls.

"Wow…" Seamus breathed behind him, grasping onto his own costume, which, surprisingly was one of a Middle Ages Jester.

Harry let the silver chainmail top land elegantly onto the bed. He then reached for the small silver eye-mask, and the shoulder armour that glowed gracefully in the sunlight.

"By God, Harry" Seamus breathed, his eyes popping out of his head. "You're going to look stunning." Harry felt his face heat up at this, and he shook his head compulsively. "No… no I'm not." He stammered, stuffing the Knight's costume back into it's packaging.

Seamus chuckled and threw his own costume onto his bed. "Do you actually want to go to this, Harry?" He asked, sitting down on Harry's bed and idly fumbling with the packaging of his costume.

"Not… not really." Harry mumbled sitting down next to him.

"Then I might have something that will get you through it a bit quicker." Seamus grinned, and turned round to make sure no one else was in the room.

Harry frowned, and leaned back. "What do you mean?" He asked.

Seamus chuckled and stood up. "Just tell me you'll go – and I'll make sure you enjoy yourself."

Harry frowned deeper and glanced at the open package on his bed, then back up at Seamus. He actually considered the thought. After all, it was the last Valentine's Ball he would ever have to attend at Hogwarts.

"Ok. OK, then." He replied faintly, rubbing at his temples.

"Excellent." Seamus laughed, and stalked out of the room.



Draco Malfoy opened his eyes under the water, letting the liquid coolness embrace his skin, feeling the comfort and soft feeling of the bubbles that etched from his mouth tickle his neck as he leaned over the large sink. He could only faintly hear the shrill callings of his name from outside the bathroom, his long hair wisping lightly in the water like thin silver shards.

When he could no longer hold his breath, he quickly whipped his head out of the sink and gasped for oxygen.

"DRACO!!" A piercing scream ran through the common room below. Draco rolled his eyes and slowly made his way out of the Slytherin bathrooms and onto the long banister, looking down at a furious Narcissa Malfoy who stood with her arms crossed over her chest, half of her makeup on, half of her clothes not, and looking utterly dishevelled. "DRACO!!" She called again looking around.

Draco rolled his eyes and walked down the stairs, his hair sticking to his throat and cheeks, his hands digging into the black pockets of his bath robe.

"Mother, I am here." He drawled lazily, leaning against the banister at the foot of the stairs.

Narcissa turned around to face her son, and rolled her eyes. "Come, Draco. I crave a word with you." She retorted haughtily, and led her son into a room around the back of the Slytherin dorms.

Narcissa Malfoy was the organiser of the Valentine's Ball this year, and had been asked to attend it herself. Being a firm believer in keeping up appearances, Narcissa agreed grudgingly with the headmaster and arranged to stay over night in the large room of her son's, who was Head Boy.

As Draco sauntered into his own room, now filled with makeup, dress robes and various other items of his mothers, he turned round and sat on the bed as his mother motioned two of her house elves to assist her tying the rather difficult corset string on her back.

"Draco." She smiled rather tightly.

"Yes, Mother?" He asked benignly.

"You are of age." She sighed, grimacing as the house elves tied the string rather tight. "It is time." Turning around, she tried smiling more wider, fanning herself with her long bony hand.

Draco frowned, and looked up at her confused. "Time for what, Mother?" He asked rather innocently.

"It is time for you to leave school, and to be married. To carry on the family name." She smiled again. Draco shuddered, and felt the pit of his stomach drop.

"M-Married?" He coughed, bringing and hand up to his neck. "But… I'm only eighteen!" He said softly.

"It is time!" Narcissa boomed haughtily, pushing the house slaves off of her. "Miss Parkinson will be expecting your engagement tonight. I have left the ring in your possession, Draco – you must give her it." She smiled again. "Such a beautiful girl, she is."

Draco frowned. He did not believe his mother truly meant what she just said. "I don't want to." He retorted, lifting his chin up.

Narcissa dropped her hand, and scowled. "You will do as you are told, Draco Malfoy!" She spat, leaning over her son.

"I don't love her!!" Draco yelled, standing up. "I'll never love her! I'll never marry her!" He could feel the heat rising up in his cheeks, his fists clenching at his sides.

"Then you will have your Father to answer to!!" She snarled, her nostrils flaring.

"I don't care!" Draco shouted, causing his Mother to gasp and fly her hand to her mouth. "How dare you." She breathed, taking her hand away. "How dare you insult your own family!"

Draco sneered and stood back. "I already did when I refused the Dark Mark, didn't I Mother?"

Narcissa snaked out her hand and slapped her son squarely on the cheek. Draco stumbled back, clutching onto his face.

"You will do as you are told, boy. Now, get ready – you do not have long." Narcissa hissed, turning round to face her mirror, as Draco fled out of the room and up into the dormitories, where he had been forced to sleep tonight with the 4th years.

As Draco stormed into the room, he thanked all his God's that it was empty – if news got round that he was in tears then he could currently kiss his reputation goodbye. Wiping at his red eyes furiously, he sank onto his temporary bed and buried his face into the pillow.

The ring that he was being forced to give to Pansy lay on the chest of drawers next to the bed, gleaming brightly in the dull light of the late afternoon.

Sighing and looking up, he wrapped his fingers around the silver band and held it in front of his face. The ring itself was plain silver, with a single black cross engraved on the front. Inside, the words 'I Love Thee' were marred in black, perfectly calligraphically swirled. Screwing his face up, Draco buried the ring deep into his palm and felt hot tears curse down his face, the ring digging into his flesh – and he could swear he almost felt it burn.

"I don't love her." He whispered to nobody in particular. "I don't!" He yelled, throwing the ring across the room, and watched silently as it bounced off of the wall opposite him, landing with a dull thud onto the floor. "I don't."

~~~*~~~

TBC