Summary: Harry is morning for Sirius. Draco is inlove with Harry. What happens if Draco's being 'out' makes Harry want to get closer? DracoxHarry with other relationships included.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, save for the plot. So far, all the characters, belong to the lovely J.K.Rowling and here brilliant mind.
Warning: This fanficion containssome SLASH relationships and should not be read if you are a flaming homophobe. Further more, this takes place in Harry's 7th year at Hogwarts, so naturally it has spoilers to all five books and my own ideas for the 6th.
A/N: This is my first Fanfic...well, not true, I did write one before this one, but it was trash... so this is my first POSTED fanfic, so be kind. I appreciate all the constructive criticism you wish to dish out to me. Enjoy!
Haunting Pasts
"Yes!", exclaimed Harry, leaping out of his chair. "Finally I, Harry Potter, have beaten you, Ronald Weasley, at wizards chess."
Ron looked a little sulky and retorted, "Yeah, well-I-You…you cheated! That's it!"
Harry hit him playfully and said, "Nah, wouldn't be any sense in that. I would know that I didn't do it fairly, and my Gryffindor side would feel bad about taking false glory."
Ron just looked in slight shock. "You have put way too much thought into that, mate." He then got up and sat next to Hermione, snuggling together. They had been dating for over a year now, since the beginning of sixth year, and never ceased to show their love off in public.
Feeling a bit left out, Harry got up and headed out to his favourite thinking spot, the lake. He liked this place so much because it was nearly always deserted, and even when it wasn't it was big enough to share. Today it was deserted, as it was a Sunday and most of the students were inside, doing their last-minute studies and essays.
Lying down in the grass, Harry closed his eyes, letting thoughts soar through his head. He did this a lot, almost always thinking about Sirius. Although it was two years since his passing, Harry was not quite over it; over Sirius. Sirius was the only person he had loved. Sure, he loved his friends, but this was different. There was just something, dare he say it, magickal about him and the way Harry felt for him and he had never even got to say goodbye.
What had crushed Harry even more, however, was that he never even got to confess his undying love for Sirius to him. Now he would never get to, and wouldn't ever know how Sirius felt about him. It was this thought that had driven him to do it; eyes welled with tears, Harry reached into his pocket and extracted a pocket-knife (the very one Sirius had given to him for Christmas in his forth year). He slowly, yet firmly, dragged the blade across the flesh of his wrist.
He winced, but only slightly, as he was far too used to the feeling. After watching the blood drip down his arm for a while, he cleaned the blood, pleased at knowing that there would be a very visible scar left behind.
He stashed the pocket-knife in his robes and made to leave, heading back towards the castle. Just as he turned a hallway, he collided with something solid and was knocked backwards, too wrapped up with is thoughts to watch where he was going.
Just as he started tensing, waiting to crash to the cold floor, he was caught by the wrists. The feel of pressure and fabric against his fresh cut made him yelp and wince in pain. The person holding them let them drop instantly.
After cradling his wrist, Harry looked up and almost wished he didn't; standing in front of him was none other than Draco Malfoy. "What's a matter Potter, did I hurt you?"
Harry didn't respond right away. There was something in Draco's voice that sounded almost worried. Not only that, but his silver eyes gave him away. Somewhat forgetting who he was speaking to, Harry replied in an almost civil-like tone, "Not exactly, no."
Looking into his eyes, Harry could see a mix of emotions; shocked, relieved, and then back to their usual cold state.
"Good. Wouldn't want Dumbledork to blame me for a broken nail of his Golden Boy," Draco said with a trademark Malfoy smirk, before walking on.
Harry stood there momentarily, before mentally shaking himself and continued his way to the Gryffindor common room. After muttering the password, he walked in, passed the making out Hermione and Ron in the corner, and up to him dormitory.
Once inside, he realized how completely exhausted he was and made to undress. After he was changed, he climbed into bed, and closed the hangings, casting the usual locking and silencing spells on his bed. He didn't like to have his friends hear his sobs as he woke in the middle of the night, crying over dreams filled with his lost love.
He took off his glasses, set them beside his wand, and drifted off into an unusually calming sleep.
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That was close…too close thought Draco as he walked passed Harry in the halls. He wondered, also, why Harry had been clutching onto his wrist as though… No He didn't want to think that. He didn't want to think about his crush making suicide attempts.
Not that his entire world was dependant on Harry, even though Draco did have the tendency to make sure that he bumped into Harry at least once a day, watch him in the halls from class to class, and when no one was looking, stared at him throughout meals.
Draco used to think of his lust for boys was just some sort of phase, as most of the girls he came by last summer weren't nearly as attractive as them. But as soon as he came back to Hogwarts he found himself constantly entranced by a certain Gryffindor's emerald eyes, and found himself constantly following them around, stealing glances whenever he could risk it.
Even now, when Draco had self-admitted to being gay, he knew that no one could know, for 'a Malfoy does not love men,' in the loving words of his father, who had caught him making out with a boy last summer. Draco's father, infuriated by what he saw, had beaten Draco and tortured him with the Cruciatus curse for a countless number of hours, until Draco was reduced to near insanity.
He shuddered as he thought about it. His father had made a point of not harming Draco up until them, as it was simply not gentleman like. But something in him snapped as he laid his eyes upon the sight of Draco sucking-face with another boy.
The only thing that kept him sane while his father brutalized him, shouting at him at how he was to marry Pansy Parkinson, was thinking about Harry. He should have known then at how he felt about Harry, but he merely forced himself to think that it was only because he knew that once Harry had defeated the retched Dark Lord, he would be free from his father's abuse.
Yes, Draco didn't care for Voldemort or his bloody plans. I mean, what person with the least bit of dignity would worship a man so crazy, and sink so low as to kiss the sodding hem of his robes. These thoughts had been in his mind ever since Draco had been forced to meet Lord Voldemort in the summer before last, when his father had been broken free.
Draco was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he was at his room (as the Head Boy and Girl each had their own rooms) before he realized where he was going.
Once inside, he threw off his robes, put on his pyjamas, and climbed into bed. It was freezing in his bed, as always, so he had trouble drifting off. Sighing, he cast a heating charm on his bed, and fell asleep.
A/N: So, what do y'all think about it? Please review and tell me what you think. I'm sorry it's a little short, but I just thought that it should end here. The next chapter should be longer!
-Drag