AU: First off, just want to say I'm am still writing my Maleficent story, and it isn't going to be stopping in the foreseeable future. This is just an added project.

Secondly, if you've read my Maleficent story, expect this one to be very different. It's definitely got more serious themes and it's much darker.

Also, thanks so much to FanOfRandomThings for co-writing and help on this story. Your help with ideas, and writing is very helpful.

Lastly, this story is kinda one-shotish, but I might expand it depending on comments, favorites, and follows :) I have a fully developed plot in mind which I could use (and make the story a little less sad) but I'd like to see what people think first.

It was a dark, cloudy day and the sky threatened the shoppers with a blizzard. Despite the occasional sprinkle, however, no storm had drenched Diagon Alley in more icy snow. Harry, for one, hopped the relatively peaceful weather held up for a few minutes more at least.

Ducking into the nearby toy shop, Harry grabbed a talking doll and handed over the money before stuffing it in his coat. Then, with a skyward glance, Harry hurried toward some nearby transportation. He'd never be forgiven for being late to the birthday party, but perhaps the expensive gift would make up for it if he was only moments late and he explained the traffic due to the upcoming storm.

Deciding to take a short cut, Harry took a deep breath, scanned the area, then hurried through a rarely used back alley. Harry's pace was fast. So fast, in fact, that he almost didn't notice the shape of a crumpled form until he'd practically stepped on it.

With a gasp, Harry wheeled backwards. Seeing as the form hadn't really moved, Harry suddenly felt sick wondering if this had been some vagabond wizard whose time had run out. A closer inspection revealed that the form was indeed breathing, however shallowly.

Harry's gut told him to flee the alley and stay away from this likely dangerous and homeless person, yet Harry's good nature strongly disagreed. With a light, gentle movement of his foot, Harry carefully turned the person over, prepared to flee if this was a trick. When the person, obviously unconscious, turned over and Harry saw how underfed and hollowed the person's cheeks were, he didn't hesitate to drop to the ground. Putting one hand on the person's shoulder, Harry leaned the man against the wall. Finally he fully took in the man's appearance, and he did not like what he found.

Indeed this man was far too thin, and fading scars rippled over his pale face. That wasn't what disturbed Harry most of all, however.

An easily recognizable shock of platinum blonde hair, interspersed by the occasional white, covered the man's head, as well as the beginnings of his beard.

"Malfoy?" Harry breathed; the man stirred.

The person, who Harry didn't want to believe was Malfoy, moaned softly. His eyelids struggled to open, and when they did, they shot open as fast as the cry shot from Malfoy's lips.

"Potter!" It was a very soft cry, and if Harry hadn't been straining his ears he wouldn't have heard it.

Malfoy's eyes were wide, in fact they were nothing short of frightened, and he did his best to scramble backwards, although the wall kept him pinned.

"Malfoy?" Harry repeated skeptically, and the blonde haired man's eyes flicked to the end of the alley as if searching for an escape.

"Get- Get out of here! Get away from me!" The man's choked cries were positively desperate, but Harry only gulped, shaking his head.

"What happened to you? What happened to your family?" Harry watched as Malfoy gasped for breath, his terror turning to sorrow. His next gasp was a sob. He turned his face, pressing it against his shoulder and squeezing his eyes shut against emotion of any shape or form.

"Draco, what's wrong?" Harry tried, and suddenly the other man's head shot up, his eyes dangerous.

"Don't call me that. I don't deserve it. I'm a Malfoy and I always will be."

Harry shook his head, bewildered, but checking over Malfoy made Harry gulp.

"What happened?" Harry repeated more sternly, and when he didn't get a response he shook the other man lightly.

Malfoy shied from the touch, but finally he began to speak.

"You don't want to hear," he told Harry. "And you're better off not knowing. You wouldn't understand. You shouldn't have to understand. Why don't you just leave me alone. Just leave me here to rot, Potter. I don't want anything to do with you."

"I thought we were beyond this petty fighting, Malfoy?" Harry gently replied, and another sob escaped the man before he turned away.

"Please, just leave!"

A cough suddenly escaped the blonde man, and Harry frowned when a tiny splotch of red flew from Draco's mouth to land on the filthy ground. Raising his hand, more red was coughed into it.

"You're injured. You're sick!"

"There's no reasonable cure," Draco replied.

"Please, just tell me what happened. I might be able to help!"

"You wouldn't understand!"

"I might!"

"Fine. Then understand this! I hope my wife and my son are dead. Do you understand that?"

"No," Harry replied uneasily, staring into Draco's grey, sunken eyes.

"Just leave me here. Just get out of here. Go on!"

"Draco?"

"Don't call me that!"

"Alright. Malfoy, please. Why would you wish that?"

Malfoy shook his head, turning it away in a feeble attempt to hide the tears that were soundlessly leaking from his eyes.

"You should get out of here, now. What if they're tracking me? What if they know I'm talking to you? What if they take advantage of the situation?"

"They?" Harry asked.

"Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater. That's the cold hard truth, Potter. That's what I found out."

"They're gone, practically!"

"Practically, they are. They are also quite practical about tying up loose ends."

"They attacked you?" Harry studied Malfoy's reaction, and the man gave a deep sigh, ending in a dry sob.

"They should have attacked me," his voice was low. "I wish they had attacked me. But they are ruthless, Potter. They are ruthless, and they are cowards."

"They attacked your-"

"Yes."

Harry was silent, his opening and closing his mouth several times as he searched for the right words. Of course, there were no right words, for the situation was so twisted and so wrong.

"I'm-" Harry began, but Malfoy cut him off.

"Don't be sorry. It doesn't do anyone any good."

"When your son didn't come back to school for a second semester first year, we thought you'd taken him out while there was still time to transfer him." Harry tried to continue, but he found something in his throat was lodged there and trapped his pipes.

"I would never have transferred him from there. I'm sorry you think so little of me."

"When?"

"During the break, of course. Not that long ago, was it? What, two weeks? I was out buying last minute Christmas presents. I was only gone about two hours, but it was long enough... The house, it was ransacked. I could tell something was wrong when all the lights were off. I got inside, and it was all tatters, and broken glass, and stuffing from the couches, and slashed pictures, and punctured walls, and torn up carpeting, and splintered wood and..." Malfoy trailed off with a sob, and this time Harry patted his shoulder.

"If we'd known, if you'd come for help-"

"You would be dead," Malfoy finished for him. "There was one poor kid they left there. The son of two of them, believe it or not. He was terrified, but he tried not to show it.

"He told me that I wouldn't be seeing them again, my wife and son I mean. He told me they were gone and that if I got help, my rescuer would be gone as well. He told me that I had obligations and that I was bound by rules and regulations that I'd sworn to. He told me that I was still a Death Eater, and that if I was smart I wouldn't forget it.

"He said that they might be undercover, but they aren't gone. Now they just have to be 'sneaky'. Now they need me back. He said that I didn't have to come with him, but I wasn't to be seen talking to anyone other than a pure blood unless it was as a last resort, and then it wasn't to be in a friendly way. He claimed that they are watching me.

"Maybe they're watching me right now! Maybe they see me in this alley and maybe they will grant my last wish; that my wife and son are dead. Because otherwise, Potter, the situation would be more than just unbearable."

Harry glanced back and forth, up and down the alley, nervous after the other man's speech. However, there were no creeping shadows or unscrupulous figures meaning the two men harm.

"You ran?" Harry asked.

"Of course. I wasn't going to hurt that poor kid. I wasn't going to put any one in danger by talking to them. I was not, under any circumstances, going to follow that kid, either."

"You've been here for two weeks? Have you eaten anything?"

Malfoy looked away.

"Your wand?"

"They broke it."

Harry was silent.

"Aren't you going to leave me here? It's for your own good. It's for your family's good," Malfoy stared deep into Harry's eyes.

"Look, Draco- and yes I'm going to call you Draco- I won't leave you here. You're coming with me."

"No."

"Yes, you are. That wasn't all that happened, and I know it. Tell me the rest."

Draco looked away again.

"Tell me, Draco Malfoy."

"A spell."

"A spell?"

"Yes, a spell. I'm dying, Potter. Slowly, but surely. The kid cast it, then he broke down crying, and disappeared. It was still a better job than I ever did when it comes their demands for me."

"There's got to be a cure."

"I don't want to cure it."

"Draco!"

"I don't! I don't want to! They cast it this way on purpose, but I won't live up to their last taunt. I won't do it!"

"What is the cure Draco?"

"No!"

"What is the cure!" Harry shook Draco, who sighed thickly.

"I won't tell you. I won't put people in danger like that again."

"Please, Draco. Just tell me."

Draco shook, but he finally spoke softly, turning his head away.

"A mud blood's blood. To cure it, I have to consume a drop of mud blood's blood. Only a drop, mind you, but they would find the mud blood most assuredly, and so away with them for 'helping' me. I won't be responsible for it. It's better this way."

Harry sat back, trying to take it all in. Too many horrors had suddenly been forced into his life, and a pity like none he had ever felt began plummeting into his heart. It was all consuming, and staring at this pale, gaunt man made Harry's chest tighten.

To be honest, the parents had thought that the Malfoys had taken their child from the school in order to get him away from 'mud bloods'. None of them had any idea what had really happened to the family. Harry now winced at some of the comments that the parents had thrown about when it came to the Malfoy's son's disappearance.

One comment was most assuredly wrong. Draco was not just like his father. His father wouldn't have hesitated to follow the boy back to the other Death Eaters. Draco's father wouldn't have hesitated to kill a thousand 'mud bloods' if it would save his own skin.

"Draco," Harry spoke softly, "There is protection. There is surely a willing 'mud blood' out there, as you call them. They could be protected. The Death Eaters are not strong anymore. We can easily protect the 'mud blood'."

"I won't take that chance."

"Please, Draco. Don't give up. There is still hope for you, and maybe even for your family."

"Don't say that."

"If they're still alive, wouldn't you rather save them now than leave them there?"

"They aren't still alive. They're not! Don't tell me they are, please!"

"Draco, come with me. I can and will help you! Please."

"Potter-"

"My name is Harry, and you deserve to call me by that name."

"I don't deserve any such thing."

"Yes, Draco, you do."

"Potter-"

"Harry, Draco. Call me Harry."

"You can't really help me," it was a plea.

"Yes, I can. Come with me."

Finally, Draco looked at Harry with something just short of hope in his eyes. He wanted to refuse the help, the pity, but he knew he was to much of a coward to turn Harry away.

"Harry, I don't want to believe that they are alive. Believe me when I say they are better off dead. For that matter, I'm better off dead, but maybe these things can't be helped. Maybe the things that people are better off with are always the very things that allude them."

"I'll take you back to my home. We'll warm you up and get some food in you."

"I don't want your pity, Potter... Harry. I don't want anyone's pity."

"And I won't give you pity, but I'll give you help."

And then Harry put his arm around Draco, easily lifting him to his feet. Then the two old enemies stumbled from the alley. Their hope and purpose: that they could escape the death that had taken captive their lives.

AU: I know, sad! I don't usually write sad stuff so this was unusual for me, hope it was okay! Please fav, follow, and tell me what you think! I'll expand the story out of a oneshot depending :) If I do, don't give up, things'll lo

ok up!