Hello readers! I hope you will like my story. I already acknowledge that I disregard a significant amount of JK Rowling's plot, but this is fanfiction afterall. The title is not mine either. It's quoting a song called Turning Page by Sleeping at Last. On another side note, I apologize for such a long chapter (1.2K words), but it was the only way to break the story up. Furthermore, please enjoy my first chapter.

ღღ Chapter One ღღ

The back of Draco's head hit the wall, forcing him to gasp at the ferocity being displayed from Harry. Chests pressed together, he was feeling heated and breathless. His lover pressing wet, biting kisses at the quick, successional pulse in his throat while the brunette rubbed his thigh up against his hardening erection. All he could do was grasp Harry's shirt and try to keep his knees from giving out beneath him as the wild noises choked in his throat and his head spun.

The Slytherin willed himself to speak, "Harry..." Responsively, he paused the passionate ongoings. Draco took in the sight of his tussled grown out locks and swollen, abused lips, eyes glazed over and lidded with hunger and desire. "Bed." Harry looked around as if he had not realized their intimacy was taking place against the entrance of the Gryffindor dormitories and not comfortably in his four poster bed.

All of the others had gone to the Divination Class he should have been attending as well; a perfect chance to be with Draco. Said boy, chose that moment to slip his arms around the Gryffindor golden boy's neck, shakily exhaling a hot, shivering breath into the shell of his ear. Harry hoisted the thin legs around his waist and carried the pale wizard to his mattress, thanking the divine that there was no possible chance any of his friends would walk in.

As he laid Draco back, his limbs were still holding Harry. His lively emerald orbs met the warm, grey eyes shining a graceful expression of adoration and love. Harry couldn't help but caress the blonde's beautifully defined cheek bone and watch the causation of his lashes fluttering shut. Eyes still pleasantly closed, he placed his hand on Harry's. The Slytherin could nearly hear his happiness buzzing in his head. After all the misery he had lived through, he deserved Harry. This is what fate had granted him: a chance for the pain to dissipate and never return. Maybe.

Harry laced their fingers, bringing Draco's forearm with the Dark Mark on it to his lips, kissing the cursed label. The action snapped opened Draco's eyes and his gaze was questioning, he knew Harry had done it purposefully, but his curiosity stuck in his throat.

The dark-haired boy could still feel the memory of that awful night so vividly that he almost trembled in fear. It was the past summer after they had finished their fifth year. He hadn't wanted Draco to return home. With Voldemort back and Lucius' presence in the graveyard and every death eater ambush since until his imprisonment, his concern for the blonde heightened drastically. He could tell his lover was scared too, despite the brave faces applied trying to convince Harry it was okay. How could the boy who lived understand? Everyone he loved was safe. Meanwhile, Draco's mother was there in that horrid mansion that had become slave to Voldemort and other Death Eater house guests. He shuttered to think of the repercussions she'd deal with if he didn't return, what she might have to sacrifice, her life most likely. With his father in Azkaban, he was the only one who could protect her.

Ultimately, his unwillingness to leave behind Malfoy Manor, Harry's agitation about Sirius dying, and their inability to have a normal relationship that their friends and family could know about caused the chosen one to cut ties and end the year long love. But Draco just couldn't abandon his mother even if it meant losing the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Immediately upon coming home for the holiday, they felt extreme remorse and regret for how they could have made things turn out differently, but the Malfoy boy knew he was right to stay for mother and Harry didn't know how he could possibly fix their relationship or if it was even mendable. So the couple spent that summer mourning and moping over their loses, thinking what if.

Then that night came. Somehow it had never occurred to them that through the connection Voldemort had with the boy who lived, he could easily view every private, intimate moment the two boys had shared. Already there had been so much abuse towards Draco since his father had failed, but the situation escalated the second he who must not be named saw those loving thoughts and memories in Harry's head. Just as he had with Sirius, Voldemort showed that he would hurt Draco. Even though they weren't together, even if in years they went back to being enemies, Harry would still come. He would always want to rescue the boy who had captured his heart and made home in it.

Voldemort had fully intended to murder each of them, make Draco watch Harry die as punishment, but not before he had shamed Malfoy by giving him the dark mark. Poor Harry would come to the boys rescue only to see such disloyalty.

It had been one of the worst nights of Harry's life. He would never forget the look of terror and pain both physical and emotional on his lover's face. Narcissa standing mere ten feet away, ran to Draco the moment Harry disarmed Voldemort. As they prepared to apparate, the dark haired boy joined them, leaving a furious Dark Lord behind.

They arrived at Grimmauld place only for Draco to begin kicking and screaming, "You should have let me die!" Those words would ring in Harry's head for the rest of his life. How young and scared he had looked, like a cornered animal, as Harry tried to grab ahold of him and embrace him like nothing had changed. "No, I'm dirty. You can't touch me. Don't touch me," Draco was sobbing, falling to the ground and still trying to cower away from the dark haired boy.

He had apparated away before Harry could do anything further, leaving him disheartened and distressed. He didn't know that Draco was safe or if he was okay. For all he knew, his lover had been found by Voldemort or the emotional turmoil consumed him and he had finished himself off. If anyone had ever worried more than Harry had those two weeks until school began, he was sure it would have killed them.

Then on the train the blonde was still obviously so bitter of what happened. He wouldn't even make eye contact with Harry and then when the Gryffindor boy tried to stay behind to talk with him, he assaulted him, too overwhelmed and scared to confront their issues. The consequences of that summer were harsh and put the couple through Hell. It was something Harry was still hoping to forget, even just for a day.