Chapter One: Falling Apart

A harsh October wind danced through the thick tangle of trees and bushes in the dark forest; fog covered the ground and made a hazy maze within nature; the moon could not be seen on this night-- the sky was pitch black, even the stars seemed to be hiding from the unspeakable things hiding in the forest. A soft popping alerted nothing in particular to the arrival of something, or rather someone. A tall, raven-haired boy, with startling green eyes pushed his way through the trees, breaking off branches and making quite a ruckus. His face was covered in tears and he looked lost and dazed. He shivered against the cold, although it seemed that his shivers held a deeper meaning, a deeper fear.

Harry Potter stumbled and fell to the leaf-covered ground. The crunching beneath his fingers only made him more agitated and he struggled to his feet, picking up the pace. Harry had no idea where he was; he had been trying to Apparate to number twelve, Grimmauld Place, but he was too distressed. News had reached him and his companions, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, that a Horcrux, a piece of a soul hidden within an ordinary object, had been located; yet the news was not all good. Harry scrunched his eyes against the already flowing tears as he remembered all too clearly what the message had been.

Dobby the house-elf had delivered the message. His usually cheerful disposition was lackluster and his shoulders drooped in an odd fashion; he'd wrung his hands as he had told Harry and his friends that they had found another piece of Lord Voldemort's soul; that piece of information had caused Ron to whoop in delight and Hermione to smile and hug Harry. Harry, on the other hand, had not been thrilled. He knew that it was good news, but he also knew Dobby, and by the elf's demeanor, he could tell Dobby had bad news.

"What is it, Dobby?" he had said, knowing full well there was more. He had not expected just how much more or just how drastically things could go from bad to good to sickeningly worst.

"Do-- Dobby does not w-wish to m-make Harry Potter angry, s-s-sir, or his Wheezy, but he m-must inform you, sir, that the Horcrux of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is not an ob-object."

"What do you mean?"

Dobby had then proceeded to sob, rocking back and forth. "I-it is..." He let out a sob. "It is Harry Potter's Wheezy girl."

Silence had fallen like a dead weight dropped into the ocean. Shocked could not describe the feelings washing over the three-some.

"What?"

"It is Harry P-P-Potter's Wheezy girl!" Dobby wailed pitifully.

"Ginny?"

Dobby wailed louder, nodding his head emphatically.

"But…how?"

Dobby shook his head. "Dobby knows not, Harry Po--Potter, sir; Dobby knows only what he is telling you." The elf's body trembled miserably.

Ron had been holding Hermione but once the news had sunk in, he dropped to the floor, shaking terribly; Hermione stared wide-eyed at Dobby, unable to believe it. She was mouthing "No, no, no" over and over, but it did not change the terrible reality. She clung to Ron, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Dobby, however, had more to say.

"It is the wish, sirs and mi--miss, that you return to--to the Headquarters, a-at o-once."

Harry nodded to Dobby, although for all he knew, he had not. The elf disappeared the instant Harry had given him this sign. The sound of Dobby Disapparating was enough to jolt Harry, and in that instant he had fallen to his knees sobbing and shaking. This could not be happening. It just couldn't be.

It was.

And so the three had prepared to abandon their search and return to Grimmauld Place, but Harry's emotions got the better of his magic and he had veered terribly off course and collided with a magical barrier that sent him reeling and right into the middle of some God-forsaken forest.

It was all Harry could do not to go mad.

He finally managed to stumble into a clearing. To his great surprise and possible relief, though how he could feel relief at a time like this was beyond him, a small, dark cabin stood in the clearing. The door was ajar and the windows were dark, but it was civilization. Harry sprinted to the door, not thinking at all about anything but how to get back to Ginny. He loved her. He had finally realized it after so long; finally he had found something and once again, despite his efforts, it was being wrenched from him. It killed Harry knowing that his efforts to keep Ginny safe had been in vain; it killed him to know that he could not protect her.

He stumbled into the house and a foul smell reached his nostrils. It was like walking into-- well, Harry couldn't quite explain the stench. It was so foul it made his stomach churn. Then he saw it, with a sickening wrenching of the stomach Harry sicked up all over the place at the sight of the dead and mangled body of--

"Snape?" Harry hissed in disbelief. How could this be? Snape was-- dead? How?

Then a soft sound met his ears: muttering. Insane muttering. And Harry recognized the voice: Draco Malfoy.

Harry whirled around, searching in the darkness for the foul, loathsome--

What Harry saw nearly made him sick up again. Draco Malfoy indeed. This boy was a broken piece of Harry's formal school rival. The blond before him was no more coherent than Snape's lifeless shell on the floor. He was staring off into space, although his eyes were glued on Snape, and he was bloody and bruised. His eyes bulged and the silver-grey that used to glow with a fire at the sight of Harry was dead and gone.

Harry stepped closer, all thoughts of Ginny pushed to the back of his mind. Draco did not flinch; did not look at him; did not sneer; did not do anything to acknowledge Harry's presence, he just kept muttering.

"No...no...no more... I wont...You... I... stop... hurts... too much pain... can't... no... Severus... please... wake up... No... No..." Draco groaned loudly, his eyes rolling all around in their sockets. "That thing... that creature... what are you?... Who? No... leave me... I don't know... what...?"

He had not looked at Harry, but now his eyes were darting around the room as though something was there. That was when Harry heard it, the faint rattling breath and the bone chilling screams of his mother. The cold penetrated him quickly and efficiently, but Harry was ready to fight. He grabbed his wand and despite the terrible feelings within him, despite the aching of his body, heart, mind and soul, he summoned to his mind the happiest memory: His first kiss with Ginny.

"Expecto Patronum!" he shouted. A white stag erupted from his wand and charged the Dementor that stood in the darkened doorway. The creature hissed and retreated, but Harry knew that it would be back; they did not have much time.

"Malfoy," Harry hissed, kneeling beside the boy, who had gone quiet. "Malfoy, can you hear me?"

Draco Malfoy did not look at Harry and this only proved to anger the teen. He grabbed Draco hard and shook him. "Malfoy!"

Finally, as though pulled by a magnet, silver-grey eyes met those startling green eyes and he collapsed against Harry, sobbing uncontrollably. Startled into inaction, Harry sat holding the shaking figure, before he realized what has happening. He shoved Malfoy away and glared hard.

"You--" he began, but never got to finish when he realized that Draco Malfoy was hardly there.

"Help me..." he breathed, not even looking at Harry. "I can't see them... but they're… there... I know… I can feel... oh, god…they're coming... there's too many... too many... NO!!!!!!!" He screamed and shook, falling against Harry and wringing Harry's already tattered robes. "He's coming to kill me... he's coming to kill--- Severus! Please! Let me leave! NOOOOO!!!"

His screams made no sense to Harry, but it was bone-chilling: the vacant expression on the boy's face, the fear etched into his features, and then there was the pain. Suddenly, he was convulsing as though hit by the Cruciatus Curse, screaming to high heaven, begging for mercy and that was when Harry remembered just how little he hated Draco Malfoy. At this juncture it was beside the point, but it seemed important nonetheless.

But Harry did not have time to dwell on that fact as he felt the cold penetrating him once again, only this time, the cold was much stronger. He looked around and could see from the open door a swarm of hooded creatures with decaying hands gliding through the fog towards the small cabin. Harry grabbed Draco, held his wand at the ready and shouted, "EXPECTO PATRONUM!

The stag once again erupted from his wand and charged the creatures, but Harry did not have time to watch. Holding tight to Draco, he readied himself to Apparate. Draco would have none of it.

"I--I know who you are--- you're HIM!!!" He shouted; his eyes were unfocused. "NO! I won't be fooled! Not again!" He rushed to Snape's limp body and crouched next to it so low he was almost on top of the decaying, putrescent corpse. It was grotesque. The body must have been there for weeks; it had already begun decaying. That also meant Draco had been here, in this forsaken fortress, surrounded by Dementors with only a dead body for company just as long; hell maybe in his mind, it was longer.

"Malfoy, what are you--"

"SHUT UP! GET OUT OF MY HEAD!!!"

Harry realized too late that Draco had drawn his own wand. He felt a very weak spell hit him, but it did nothing. He then realized that the Dementors were still outside and threw caution out the window and dashed towards Draco, grabbed him hard and Apparated without delay.

The two landed with a thud in a field of flowers, far from the fog and cold; far from the dead body of Harry's old Potions master; far from death, but not farther from insanity. Draco Malfoy fell to the ground in a heap, staring at the sky above him.

"All dark-- so dark... can't see... all collapsing in... no...no... no more... no more..."

It was official, Draco Malfoy was no longer inside that head; he had fallen apart at the seams and it hadn't stopped till he was thoroughly unhinged.

Harry knew, with a sickening weight, that his burden was now that much larger as he now would take on the burden of Draco Malfoy.

God help me.