Chapter 1: Dreams of Death and Friendship

DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own the characters, just the plot. This fanfic will have slash, how detailed it will be I don't quite know yet . . . also it disregards the sixth book.

This fanfic was brought to you grammatically correct (well it should be . . .) with the help of Ibrium!!! The ony person who can live with my horrible spelling and grammer XD.

Alternate Title: Adventures of Ferret Boy, Scar Head, and Dumbeldor (spelt wrong on purpose) with comedic moments but it's not soley a comedy . . .

Harry Potter's summer had not started on a sweet note and had yet to become anything above mundane. The resurgence of Death Eater activity influenced Dumbledore's decision to confine Harry to his Aunt and Uncle's house. The prospect of not being able to spend his summer, let alone his sixteenth birthday, with his two best friends at the Burrow had put a damper on things. Instead, he had filled his first month of break with being, once again, the Dursley's servant. With nothing better to do or look forward to, he had silently complied.

Harry had just cooked breakfast, as usual, and was surprised by a loud noise and subsequent crash. He ran to the noise, which has come from the living room, and flung open the door to meet a funny sight.

"What in Merlin's name is that!?" Harry managed to say between bouts of laughter. He was pointing at possibly the ugliest dog ever. It looked exactly like Dudley with fat rolls everywhere and short sandy blonde hair. The massive animal had apparently knocked over Aunt Petunia's vase because it lay shattered in front of the fireplace.

"It's my new dog, Potthead!" Dudley exclaimed, excessively proud of his new acquisition. His bubble was soon burst when his mother rushed into the room followed by his red-faced father.

"What in Go— " Aunt Petunia began when she became dead silent and proceeded to pass out.

Uncle Vernon nearly flipped his lid but held back, much to Harry's disappointment. Instead he muttered, "Get that bloody dog OUT OF MY HOUSE . . . NOW!!!"

Dudley waddled out of the room as fast as his chubby short legs could take him. Harry would have laughed but Vernon was staring at him now.

"What— " was all that could escape his lips before Vernon lashed out on him.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU LET THIS HAPPEN! GO TO YOUR CUPBOARD AND STAY THERE UNTIL YOU ROT! I GAVE THAT VASE TO PETUNIA FOR OUR WEDDING YOU INCOMPENTENT FREAK!!!" Vernon was the deepest shade of purple possible and, out of air, collapsed on the nearest chair. "Clean this mess up and finish breakfast first, if you can manage not to screw that up."

Harry looked at his Uncle, completely frozen with shock; he hadn't done anything, he didn't even know Dudley had a dog. Knowing that if he argued things would become much, much worse, he stealthily left the room and fetched the broom and cursed to himself as he saw that the bacon had managed to burn itself at medium heat during the fiasco. He quickly put some new bacon on the stove before proceeding. When he re-entered the living room he found that his Aunt had regained consciousness and was glaring at him full of hatred, nothing new, just somewhat more deranged than usual. Not wanting to char the bacon again he cleaned up the pieces of vase rapidly. Imagine my luck, getting in trouble for something I didn't do only two days after break started; that's got to be a record.

Harry's confinement to the cupboard didn't last long because a week later his cousin bored of the dog and Harry was forced to walk, feed, and take care of "Spot" as Dudley had so elegantly named the animal. Harry was just glad the dog didn't stay with him because it smelled like fecal matter and it tormented Hedwig when she was napping in her cage.

This silent submission had disheartened the Dursley's and they soon lost interest in actively trying to torment him. So he spent his days relatively unbothered, except when he had to tend to Spot. This gave him excessive free time in which he actually finished all of his summer homework and for once he actually understood what he was doing in Potions. That was all in the first two weeks of summer break. Not having much else to do he wrote to Ron and Hermione.

Dear Ron and Hermione,

Don't fret, I'm alive and in one piece. The Dursley's have been leaving me alone because I haven't reacted and they aren't entertained anymore. Although, they have "entrusted a great responsibility" to me: taking care of Dudley's horrendous dog. Hope you guys are having a better summer than me, see you at school.

Your Best Mate,

Harry

With one day until his birthday, he occupied himself be staring at the ceiling of his cramped "room", Dudley was having a friend stay all summer so the Dursleys had taken his room from him and literally thrown him back into the cupboard under the stairs. As he was much taller then he was as an eleven or twelve year old it felt more cramped than before, but as he was not bothered by the seemingly claustrophobic surroundings, he soon adjusted. He had just counted the one-hundred and thirty-seventh spider when her heard a tapping at his window; it was Hedwig with a letter, most likely from Hermione and Ron.

Dear Harry,

Hey, mate, sorry about the lock down, it really sucks. If you want, I bet I could get Fred and George to help me break you out again and Dad could put some extra protection spells—

The ink had been interrupted and Harry could see that Hermione had take the quill and written.

Don't listen to Ron, he just misses you, we all miss you. Dumbledore confined you for a reason so you'll stay there, don't worry; only a month and some until school. Look at it this way, now you'll have time to finish your homework. Harry could see Hermione smiling at that particular note and Ron looking disgusted, but also nervous because he probably hadn't started any of his homework.

You Best Friends

Ron and Hermione

P,S. Seriously, think about it mate, the car is fixed . . . kind of . . .

P.P.S. Happy Birthday mate!!!

Attached was a bag of Bernie Bott's Every Flavored Beans, a jar of broom polish, and a book, obviously from Hermione, titled A Beginners Guide to Wandless Magic.

How right Hermione was, Harry laughed to himself, just like her to mention homework. A few minutes later, another owl came; it was Earl. After he managed to collide with the already half open window, Harry grabbed the rather large box; it was a cake from Mrs. Weasely saying Happy 16th Birthday Harry!

He was truly happy to have friends,but he did like the new sense of quiet. With that in mind, he peacefully went to sleep unaware of what the next day would bring.

The ocean beats rhythmically against the shore; with a feather-like touch it laps at his feet. The sun is slowly being consumed by the far of horizon. A scream pulses in the air for the briefest of moments, jerking Harry's attention to the left. His eyes meet a deathly sight, body parts were strewn everywhere, yet he sees no heads which he feels should be odd. As soon as he blinks it's gone with no trace of it ever existing other than a tinge of blood red on the surface of the receding ocean. He walks, detached from all sense, down the beach for about fifteen minutes until it ends and he is suddenly engulfed by darkness. He can't see, move, or feel anything but somehow it doesn't bother him until a screen drops out of nowhere. 5 – 4 – 3 – 2 – 1, the film counted down, then, after a few moments of breaking video, a clip began.

It was Platform Nine and Three-Quarters; he was looking through someone else's eyes because he saw himself boarding the train with Fred and Georges helping with his luggage. The vision of the person suddenly blurred, he proceeded to watch the clip in a cloudy haze, and he, or rather the person he was seeing through, was strutting through the compartments. A short time later he entered a compartment and immediately he knew it was his as the vibrant red hair was easy to see even blurred and for some reason he, well the Harry he saw, reached out his hand— the clip abruptly ended and screeched with an empty reel. Harry covered his ears and closed his eyes.

When he opened them again he was surrounded by darkness once more. He was tired and pain began to pulse through his right hand and then the rest of his arm. A spotlight appeared to reveal he had not a right hand, but a bloody stub. He tried to scream in terror, pain, or anything, but his lungs were full of blood that wasn't his own. He was choking on death. He dropped to the ground, if there even was one, and lifted his tear filled eyes to plead to someone, anything, as he did his vision began to scratch out like a broken T.V. and for the briefest moment he saw strands of white-blonde escape the layers of darkness along with a hand that was reaching for his severed one.

The moment the hands made contact Harry was lurched back into consciousness.

Harry sat up in a cold sweat screaming and clawing and his throat. He was dumbfounded and had no idea what the dream meant, if anything. Outside it was pitch black, sending a shiver down his spine. He thought about writing to Dumbledore but quickly dismissed the thought because the dream hadn't been inflicted by Voldermort; after all, his scar didn't hurt, it was something else. He squinted his eyes in deep thought but soon gave up with fatigue. Harry flopped back down onto his bed and attempted to go back to sleep.

Every time he closed his eyes he could smell and taste remnants of blood from the dream. Thoroughly frustrated he look at the clock, it was four a.m. Not liking the starless sky he turned on a lamp and read the book Hermione had sent him the previous day.

Malfoy Manor July 29th

Narcissa Malfoy was outraged and in no mood to give in to the demands of her husband who had escaped Azkaban two weeks prior, "Like Bloody Hell! My son will NOT become a Death Eater, EVER! And if you don't leave my son and me alone, Lucius, so help me god I'll rip off your every last appendage before your pretty arse could say 'Muggle'!"

"Narcissa, love, calm down. You knew it was inevitable. The Dark Lord calls for all relatives to join his following. After all, our son can make his own decision as he is sixteen." Lucius smugly replied.

Narcissa inelegantly grunted but complied. They stiffly walked to Draco's personal wing. They were met with a surprising revelation; he wasn't there. Caught off guard, it took them a while to realize that a note was tacked to the left bed post.

Mother, Father,

Father I regret (well actually I don't) to inform you that I never intended to blindly follow you into the "company" of the Dark Lord. He is deranged and has bad fashion sense. That aside, Mother I hope this pleases you, as it should because I know this is what you want. Don't mistake that for my core reason. As you are well aware I am sixteen and being a legal adult wizard I can leave the estate without your consent, and you can't stop me. That's what led me to truly consider my future path. More specifically how I will survive the coming war. Therefore, I have officially decided that it would be much more advantageous to be on the side of the light. Although I'm not particularly fond of Dumbledore or Potter it is a necessary change of allegiances and more importantly my decision. As such, please do not contact me unless you agree with my decision. For the mean time, I will be on my own.

Sincerely,

Draconis Lucius Malfoy

Narcissa could do nothing but smile at this delightful news while Lucius could barely keep from imploding. He hastily crumpled and incinerated the note, leaving only a wisp of ash, then abruptly strode from the room without uttering a single word.

July 30th

Malfoy had slept his first night outside of the manor on a pile of leaves and covered by nothing other than a cloak. It sucked. He was chilled and sore and wasn't fairing any better in his mind.

What was I thinking, Malfoy thought, after having walked four miles without seeming to have gone anywhere. Potter win against the Dark Lord!? But he was then reminded of the dream that had truly spurred his change of loyalties. It had been a simple dream, yet it had struck to his very core. He lapsed into the memory,

Draco had returned to the Hogwart's express, he looked around and much to his amazement he saw himself! He was eleven and as arrogant as ever (although Draco probably wouldn't phrase it that way). The scene changed and he was no longer in a body, but a mere observer in a compartment and before he could look at the occupants his eyes burned and his burned. He blinked away the tears and when he opened his eyes he saw the one and only Harry Potter surrounded by a halo of light where all else was blackness. He merely stared in disbelief when Potter reached his had out. His vision cut out again and all he could see was Potter's right hand, the one he had just reached out. It the exact same position just ready for another hand to claim it; so he did, he leaned forward and shook it in friendship. He sensed a presence and could hear, no, that wasn't it, he felt the pain of Potter screaming. Draco ran blindly to find him, not knowing why he was doing so, but before he found him he was ripped away out of the dream with a cold jerk.

It had been so simple, so bloody simple, his mind emphasized, damn bugger just had to find a new way to torment me. Draco, unconvinced by even his own thought was thoroughly intrigued as to what, if anything, the dream could mean. He walked in inner turmoil when he finally stumbled upon a road, literally, damn muggles need to mark the bloody curbs.

Draco stood for a few moments as he realized he had no idea where to go or how to get there. He wouldn't be safe at any of his friends' houses and he didn't know anyone not affiliated with the Dark Lord that would willingly let him stay. He was pulled out of his train of thoughts when a great metal trap honked at him. Not about to look scared, he walked toward the car. As he approached the window of the car rolled down and the face of a young woman popped out. She was plain with pale blue eyes and shoulder length dirty blonde hair and she was seated next to a nondescript man.

"Where ya headed, sweet thing?" The cheery lady questioned. The driver simply stared forward tapping his fingers on the wheel, clearly annoyed. What? Did she just call me sweet thing . . .

"Nowhere specific." Draco put forth awkwardly. Muggles must be off their rockers, why are they trying to help me? His vague answer must have shown his confusion because the woman began to speak again.

"Well, don't be shy, sweetie. Get in the car; we'll give you a ride." She now had a determined, and slightly disturbing, smirk plastered on her face.

Draco sensed he should say no and simply walk away, what's it matter if he doesn't have a direction as long as he's not in that car. He was about to respond but was cut off by the driver.

"Look, hun, he obviously doesn't want a ride." With that the car abruptly sped up and left the curb and Draco to stand in the coming darkness. Slightly shaken by the events, but happy with the outcome, he trudged forward. Finally he decided to take a break and sat down on a battered bench under a flickering lamppost. Cold, hungry, and sore Draco grumbled and took off his shoes to massage some warmth back into his toes when the light died. Shit. Draco put his shoes back on but, unable to find the end of the bench he took out his wand and said lumos, quickly situating himself to be as comfortable as possible under his thin cloak. He closed his eyes to sleep and right before he dozed off a rush of wind snapped him back to awareness. Looking for the source of disturbance, he found a double-decker bus hovering a foot above the pavement. The door swung open to reveal a scruffy looking man.

"Need a ride, laddy? The Knight Bus will take you anywhere in England."

"Anywhere but here, and safe from Death Eaters." Draco blandly replied and slowly climbed onto the bus. He quickly found a bed and fell asleep instantly.

Hours later he was jostled awake by a firm shake. He slowly opened his eyes and groggily asked, "Wha' time is it?"

"Midnight, that'll make it the . . . 31st of July. Well then, here we are laddy, last stop of the night in this area so ya gotta' get off. Anyways, this is as secluded and unmagical as you can get: Privet Drive, Surrey." Stan informed Draco.

Draco, still tired, nodded his head in compliance, yawned and stepped off the bus.

"Good luck laddy." And with that the Knight Bus vanished with a gust of wind, nearly toppling Draco to the ground. He saved himself by grabbing a fence. Only slightly angry about having been awoken, he wasn't any more excited when he saw that he still hadn't a decent place to sleep. Muttering about incompetent, ignorant bus drivers, he occupied himself with kicking a rock until he happened upon a dark secluded park. Figuring it was the best he'd find tonight, he laid on the closest bench and promptly fell asleep. Lost in unknown dreams, Draco would never have been able to predict a very interesting arousal.

Even with a cloak, Harry was terribly cold. Thinking that it might have been a bad idea to go for a walk in the middle of the night, he contemplated turning back to the comforts of a cramped cupboard. Yeah, no, maybe I'll be better of outside, Harry rationalized. He walked silently down the empty streets and every once in a while saw a flickering streetlight or the occasional wandering stray cat. He could see hints of the coming dawn. Despite the crisp air, he couldn't help felling a warm sensation run through his body because it was his sixteenth birthday. Deciding to watch the sunrise he turned right to go to the park and sit more peacefully.

Looking everywhere but where he was about to sit, he was thoroughly shocked when he heard a deep breath from behind him. He turned around at lightning speed to find the most unusual sight. Someone was actually sleeping on a bench, in a park, and that someone had almost gotten sat on by Harry Potter. Wait, Harry checked, That's a wizarding cloak, it even has the Hogwart's emblem on it . . . why would a student— in mid thought the unknown Hogwart's student rustled and rolled over, in fact they rolled right off of the bench and onto the plush grass below. They didn't even wake up, they must have been really exhausted . . .

Harry would have laughed more if not for the looming confusion. When he leaned over to see if the person was alright he nearly had a heart attack. For it was non other than his nemesis; Draco Malfoy! As if on cue, the sun finished rising and the sleeping boy with white blonde hair decided at that same moment to open his eyes. The combination of the deep pools of silver and the bright warmth of the sun met it produced an ethereal glow the boy's face taking Harry's breath away but only for a moment as his awe was interrupted by an angry sleep-filled voice question,

"Why the bloody hell are you here? And please close your mouth, I do not need to smell your horrid breathe ever, let alone this early in the morning."

Please leave comments/reviews, it would mean a lot to me as this is my first long fanfic.

It was made apparent to me that he couldn't possibly have a window in his cupboard but I needed one for the story so deal. XD