Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and I do not own this plot.

Summary: Draco is shunned by the Hogwarts students and bullied until he becomes depressive, eventually suicidal as well. While Draco gets constantly bullied Harry finds himself haunted by dreams and a pair of eyes, of a person he cannot put a face to. Soon the forgotten past, becomes a troubled future. HD slash

A/N Raven-Dray gave me this plotto writea story.I'm writing it for her and I believe someone else who thought up the plot. I don't own it in any sense of the phrase 'to own'. So I dedicate this prologue to them! The rating might not be that bad right now, but it's going up as I progress. You've been warned.-Sleeping

Prologue

Life in Hogwarts was not easy for some people. Draco Malfoy had come to accept that in his sixth year. In only a matter of days his father was gone, arrested and in Azkaban during his fifth year, and that had only been the start of the many problems his life had come to know.

When he arrived in his sixth year his school turned on him, he had to be a Death Eater because his father was, and nobody wants anything to do with a Death Eater. As time went on, the rest of the students in the school were all but out to make sure Draco Malfoy was turned into a social outcast.

All because of who his father was and the opinions his family had towards muggles. Draco could not justify what his father had done easily, but he could not believe his father deserved what had happened to him. It was his father.

But soon the students made even his so-called friends turn on him. Too many fights with Slytherins had occurred, and the Slytherin students all but blamed Draco out right for making them such an unpopular group within their own school.

By Christmas Draco found himself rejected by everyone he had known, left to become as lonesome as Loony Luna Lovegood, only more so because no one would even talk to him. And in class, whenever partners were required, people would ignore him and leave him to his own devices.

With no one to talk to, Draco soon found what had seemed like such insignificant troubles become big problems. He felt like he had no voice, like if he even tried to speak everyone would just see past him. He felt like his pale complexion had become even paler and he was just really a ghost.

Depression quickly took over Draco's whole life. Tasks that had seemed so simple like getting out of bed became the most complicated decision ever. Sometimes Draco wouldn't get out of bed, and no one questioned his absence, ever.

He rarely took care of his appearance after Christmas, seeing it as just another bothersome thing to do with his useless life. Some of the crueler students would make snide remarks about his now greasy hair that always hung over his face, as if he were trying to hide.

Draco just listened to the comments, felt them cut him deep as if they were a dagger, and go back to bed to sleep where no one would make comments at all. Draco didn't eat any meal except supper, choosing to hide in the library most of the time just to pass the time.

Sometimes his stomach would scream for food, hurting so much it made him want to run to the Great Hall and eat something, for the love of Merlin something! But Draco didn't want to leave his safe sanctuary, where people could not get him, where he was truly safe.

Eventually, Draco had enough of the constant shunning from his housemates, school, and what felt like the world. He planned his death carefully, as careful as one could, and decided it would be best to hang himself. Who would care if he was gone? His mother might cry but she'd get over it eventually.

To everyone else his death might be called a blessing, the Weasel sure thought so. The Weasel had been the worst of his sixth year. The idiot always had a snide remark to make, always had something to say that hurt the most. Draco now ignored him because Draco was simply tired of fighting back.

He had no chance of getting his hands on a poison that could kill him swiftly and silently, if he made one crudely in potions by disregarding ingredients it would hurt like a mad runespoor's venom spilling through his veins from a bite. Poison would have been Draco's first choice of what he'd prefer to kill himself with.

He didn't want to slit his wrists or anything else because, yet again, he may want to die, but he didn't want it to be drawn out and painful. He just wanted to get it done and over with.

He bought rope in Hogsmeade, and he remembered the store clerk looking at him strangely as he purchased the rope. But it wasn't his business what Draco wanted to do with it, so he never did ask what the young boy had planned for its use.

In the dead of night Draco snuck out of his dormitory with the rope in hand, a noose already created to fit around his head and hopefully snap his neck when he fell right away. But it didn't go as well as planned.

The rope was tied securely to the stone railing so Draco would either be strangled to death or have his neck snapped soon after his jump. He didn't like the idea of dying by strangulation, but if it was how he would go, it was how he would go.

As Draco was jumping off the railing, someone came up behind him as quick as lighting, grabbed him around the waist, and hauled him away from the railing backwards. First Draco realized that he wasn't dead, and it wasn't until a few moments later that he came to senses to realize someone had saved him.

"What the hell are you doing!" Draco cried out, trying to get out of the other's surprisingly iron grip. The noose was still around his neck, and it was doing a good job of cutting off his air because it was still tied to the railing.

But the boy who had saved him, he was sure it was a boy because of the flat chest he was half laying on, soon fixed that by harshly pulling the noose off Draco's neck. The rope burned Draco's neck, but that wasn't his main concern at the time. Who the hell would save him?

"I'm saving you! You great git!" Draco heard Potter say from under him. Draco whirled up on his feet, glaring down at the boy sprawled out on the floor in front of him. Potter looked like he was recovering from the biggest scare of his life.

"I didn't want to be saved!" Draco growled out, looking down at his noose on the floor. His first attempt at suicide had been tampered with because Potter felt the need to save, yet again, another lost soul.

Well Draco didn't want anything to do with Saint Potter this time! "Potter, you may be the chosen fucking one, but do me a favour, let me be the one goddamn fool you don't save." Draco snapped, before walking away from him down the staircase.

Potter didn't listen to him, though. The bastard actually started to seek Draco out. When no one was around in the library, where Draco took to hiding, Potter would show up and sit down beside him with a book and read.

Usually it was a book on Quidditch, but sometimes it was a book about other things: like the dark arts or curses. Soon Potter tried to engage Draco in a conversation. "Malfoy-" Potter had started.

"What do you want?" Draco had spat out, putting his quill down for a second. He had actually grown to like Potter's presence, it was better then the constant loneliness.

"I was wondering if you wanted to play a small Quidditch game, just the two of us, later tonight after supper." Potter asked. Draco didn't receive it that well.

"I think not, Potter, why the hell would you want to be around the likes of me?" Draco asked, and Potter shrugged, picking up his book again.

"Because you're human." he said simply before going back to reading. Or so Draco assumed.

Draco snorted and picked up his quill to finish his transfigurations homework. "And what made you come to that bright conclusion? I thought I was big bad Death Eater in training, the enemy." Draco asked. He didn't think he'd get an answer and he didn't think he wanted an answer.

But Potter gave him one anyways. "You wouldn't be trying to kill yourself if you were." Potter said, and it hit Draco hard. No one had acknowledged it to him that he was suicidal; he thought no one had cared.

"What do you care about my death?" Draco snapped out, getting ready to leave the prat alone at the library desk and go off to some secluded place to finish his homework in peace.

"I care." Potter replied, confusing Draco.

"You shouldn't." Draco told him, getting ready to pack up as he put his quill away in his pocket robes. Potter grabbed his wrist and stared him down, making Draco stop all his movements and just stare.

"I care Malfoy. Even if I shouldn't, I do. Deal with it." Potter said, giving him a wry smile before letting go of his wrist. But something made Draco stay, and say yes he'd like to play with Harry on the field, even if he didn't know what made him stay.

Over the next few months Draco slowly let Potter into his miserable existence. Only it no longer seemed so miserable. Potter and he never talked to each other in public, but it was nice to be friendly with someone even if it was well concealed.

Potter soon became Harry, and Harry was the only light in his life. At first he got what he'd always wanted, a friendship with Harry Potter, but then after one kiss Harry became something more then just a friend.

"What was that!" Draco asked as Harry pulled away, grinning at him. Draco could still taste whatever Harry had been eating earlier in his mouth from the kiss, and it only helped create more shock in his system.

"I kissed you." Harry said, and leaned in to repeat his performance. Draco let him do it, shocked and very confused because it felt so nice, when it was so weird to be kissing a boy!

Soon after that, Draco found he quite liked kissing Harry, among other things. They kept everything they did together a secret, knowing it was probably the best thing to do to avoid conflict with one of Draco's many enemies in the school.

But it helped Draco's mood very much to have Harry to talk to. He soon began to take more care in how he looked again, showed up at lunch more, and even woke up feeling happy at the thought of being able to sneak off easily from the Slytherin Common room and meet Harry in seclusion later.

By the end of the Easter Holidays of his sixth year, Draco could easily have admitted to anyone that he was in love with the most unlikely person in the world, Harry Potter. But Draco, above all people, should have known that nothing stays perfect forever.

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