Author's Note: I do not own ne of J.K. Rowlings work so don't think I do, it is all hers… cept the parts I made up, like the plot. OotP spoilers included.
Warning: If homosexuality makes you uncomfortable, this is not the story to be reading… Go back now while you have the chance… Slash will appear later on.
Walking in Darkness
Chapter 1: Repercussions
The grounds were oddly quiet, for all it was close to one in the morning. Silently the hooded figure slid through the shadows, watching the castle loom closer before him apprehensively. Darkness shielded him from possible suspicion, but even so nervousness slithered up his spine. He shivered, cold autumn winds whipped through the leaves surrounding him. He needed to get back in, needed to go back to bed. Sleep was ebbing closer and closer into his minimal attention span.
After several moments longer of staring up at the dark building, he swept up the steps as quickly and discreetly as was possible to do being that close to passing out cold. The large heavy oak doors creaked on worn hinges, but the entrance hall was empty. No one heard. His footsteps echoed through the stone halls. A soft clicking sounded off in the distance, a clock.
Rounding the corner to his dormitory a hand caught his wrist. A greasy mass of messy black hair loomed in front of him. Suppressing the gasp of horror at being caught, a mask appeared on his pale face, training his features into the familiar cool, bored gaze.
"You should at least TRY to be a bit more discreet Draco. I could've been anyone! Trust me with your public persona, students here would NOT stop to risk their own free time to take yours away!" Snape snarled at the seventeen year old in front of him, his godson and confidant.
"Cool it Sev, no one saw me, and you KNEW I was coming back. I've got it all under control." The patented Malfoy smirk graced his lips.
"Let's hope you do Draco, you're playing with fire and your match is burning low."
"I don't use matches, I use my wand, and that never burns low. So thank you for your time Severus, but I'll be getting to bed now. Good night." Draco swept past his teacher, still quiet as a mouse, and disappeared into the shadows.
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Blood. There was blood everywhere, soaking the ground before him. Screams were echoing off the walls. Walls?
Harry Potter blinked his eyes open. It was morning, and the dormitory was just beginning to wake up mostly due to the fact that Ron was singing in the shower and he sounded along the lines of several cats being tortured. The curtains to the large four-poster had been drawn closed, though Harry couldn't remember ever closing them the night before.
Sleep still clung to the corners of his vision, pleading his eyelids to close once again. Harry swiftly brought his hands up to his emerald green eyes and rubbed them into consciousness. The dream he'd been having was draining slowly from his memory. All he could remember of it was the blood. Lots of blood and death. He knew he had been dreaming of the war that was steadily growing in the magical world.
Harry swung his legs over the sides of the bed, pulling the hangings open as he did so. Sunshine bathed his face, enveloping him in a blanket of warmth. It felt good to be warmed again, somehow the dream had left Harry feeling very cold, like ice. Dean and Seamus were in the corner making their beds and talking, not taking notice that someone else was now awake. Neville still lay in bed, unperturbed by Ron's attempts at murdering the other roommates with his singing.
After what felt like ages of just sitting there, Harry stood up and stretched. His presence was made aware to his two roommates who each said quick good mornings and returned back to their quiet conversation. Ron's howling subsided in the bathroom and Harry decided it was finally safe to go in and take his own shower without being made deaf. He grabbed his clothes and soap and walked into the steam filled room.
Ron was standing in the mirror, a large white towel wrapped loosely around his waist, combing snarls out of his thick red hair. He twisted around to face Harry sending ripples up his tight stomach. Harry shivered slightly at the sight and returned the smile Ron sent his way.
It was a struggle just to make his way through the steam without hitting any walls. Especially since Harry didn't have his glasses on. But eventually he came across an empty shower. He slipped out of his boxers, the only thing he had worn to sleep, and stepped into the stall closing the glass door behind him.
The tap blasted him with freezing cold water the second he turned the it on. It took a few minutes to warm up which gave Harry the chance to relieve his head from the sexual thoughts that ran rampant through his mind. It wasn't that hard to do, he just started thinking about Snape in a Speedo.
The warm water was slipping down his skin in small streams, dripping into his eyes from his bangs. Harry shook the water from his face and finished his shower, trying in vain to wash the distinct feeling of dirt and blood from his body. He stepped out of the stall, getting flooded with steam again.
Neville had obviously woken up soon after Harry. One of the other showers was running, adding to the thickness of steam that lay heavily in the small room. The mirrors near the door were fogged up generously and Harry was forced to wipe it clean with one of the towels that lay beside the sinks. His reflection looked blurred in the still wet mirror, but no sign of blood or dirt showed on his milky white skin.
He sighed in relief and pulled on a pair of black silk boxers and grey sweatpants. The look was not very modest as it accentuated his muscle toned abdomen. Harry swiftly ran a comb though the messy entanglements of his jet black hair, calming it down as much as was possible. Though he would never admit it, he was one of the most gorgeous boys in school, and had every girl swooning after him.
Back out in the dormitory, Seamus and Dean had vacated the premises for someplace more private. Ron also appeared to have left, and Harry assumed it was down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Deciding to follow his friend, Harry pulled on his robes and grabbed his bag for morning classes before racing out of the dorm.
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The hall was as crowded as ever, filled with squealing first years that seemed more dependant on getting through the meal then actually enjoying their time spent there. The chatter was loud enough to hear from the quidditch pitch, let alone be able to make out what anyone was actually saying. Harry made his way over to the densely packed Gryffindor table on the far right side of the room.
It wasn't hard to find Ron, sitting on the far end of the table, his plate already filled with food. Sitting down Harry smiled. He had lived on hardly anything at all, all summer, and now he finally could eat something and he had no clue what he wanted. So, a very Harry thing to do, he grabbed a little of everything.
"Hungry are you?" Ron said between bites with a small grin.
"Famished, I haven't hardly eaten all summer. Haven't had the appetite and the Dursley's didn't want to feed me that much anyway."
A dark cloud crept back into the pit of Harry's stomach. He had suddenly remembered why he hadn't had an appetite all summer. Putting down his fork, Harry looked away, pointedly avoiding Ron's gaze. A cloak of guilt seemed to have shrouded itself around him. Here he was enjoying himself and Sirius was dead. Dead because of him. He had killed his godfather and now he had the audacity to be happy?
"Harry it wasn't your fault. Stop blaming yourself for Sirius's death. He wouldn't want you to give up your happiness." Sometimes Ron's ability to always see through Harry was really rather unnerving.
"I'm gonna go for a walk okay Ron?" He stood up, slinging his bag over his shoulder, and without waiting for an answer, started to walk the length of the table again. As he did, a strange feeling that someone was watching him crept over his body. Harry furrowed his brow and turned, locking eyes with a pair of silver eyes across the hall. He scowled at Malfoy and continued his walk out of the Great Hall, not looking back.
**********
Leaves crunched under foot as Harry traipsed across the grounds, not bothering to notice where he was going or how long he had until his first class. It had been a year since his godfather's death, but to him the pain was still fresh and new. Going home to the Dursley's hadn't helped in the least, it actually only made Harry feel worse.
He had only known he even had a godfather 4 years ago. And only found out that he wasn't the murderer everyone else thought of him as just over 3 years ago. Then at the end of Harry's fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Sirius had died. Died because of Harry. He died because of a stupid mistake in the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry of Magic. And in one instant Harry's life had changed.
Being with the Dursley's reminded Harry of everything that had been taken away from him in that instant. It had reminded him of the pain that he had caused, unto himself and others. He had become so hollow since then. Not paying attention to their sneers or remarks, barely living. And now he was back at Hogwarts, the only home he had ever known. He had been there for 3 days already and he had almost completely forgotten about Sirius.
'Why did I have to go? Why couldn't I have just looked in the godforsaken mirror!?' For about the millionth time Harry wondered this. 'Malfoy's right, I really do have to always be the fucking hero. Well I wasn't a hero then was I?'
Harry finally looked up, taking in his surroundings for the first time since he had left the castle. Somehow he had managed to make his way all the way to the quidditch pitch without even realizing it. He looked down at his watch and did a double-take. He had missed about half of Transfiguration already. Readjusting the strap to his bag, Harry sprinted back up to the school, hoping Professor McGonagall wouldn't be too mad at him.
**********
"You're late Mr. Potter. I suggest you start taking notes. You will practice the charm itself during your detention tonight. And I hope you are not late for that!" Professor McGonagall's voice rang out over the class. All around Harry people were attempting to transfigure their partners into chairs. Ron it seemed had done his particularly well, although Hermione was still able to yell at him for sitting on her.
Harry groaned inwardly. He hated to think what Professor McGonagall would think if he awkwardly transfigured her into a chair and then was unable to bring her back. This thought actually brought a small bit of amusement back into his head, for a moment. His next thought though was whether Sirius and his dad had ever done anything like that when they were in school.
Without saying a word, Harry took out his quill and parchment and began scribbling down the notes from the board as fast as he could. Class was going to end in 10 minutes and he suspected that everyone else had had quite a bit more time than him to copy them down. Which was really no one's fault but his own, but that was beside the point.
10 minutes later found Harry rushing to finish with an entire board of notes left to copy. The rest of the class was dismissed, but Harry stayed behind a moment to try and finish up. As he sat there scribbling, Professor McGonagall walked up to his desk and sat across from him.
"Would you care to explain to me why you almost missed my class this morning Potter?"
"I'm sorry Professor, I guess I just got lost in thought when I was out for a walk and when I looked at my watch and saw how late it was I hurried to class as fast as I could."
"Harry one does best not to dwell on the past. Let Sirius go, it's time. Your detention will be at 7 o'clock, be prompt or I will deduct points." And with that Professor McGonagall left leaving behind a very frustrated student.
It was several minutes before Harry finished his notes and left the classroom. Part of him truly hated Professor McGonagall for telling him to let Sirius go. But another part, a much smaller part, knew she was right. He would have to let his godfather rest in peace. He just wasn't sure if he could do that right then.
The halls were deserted by now, not a soul in sight. Harry trotted towards the 3rd floor charms corridor, knowing he'd be late if he steadied to a walk. It was several corridors until any sign of human activity was even remotely present. As he walked into one of the many stairwells in the castle, a voice at the bottom dimly reached his ears. Curiosity got the best of Harry, and he slipped noiselessly down the stairs until he could hear the voice without being seen.
"…acts like I have nothing better to do then stand around and wait for him. He knows Voldemort will be displeased if we're late. That would mean 2 punishments on my part. Father is sure to be much crueler then My Lord." A door swung open and audible footsteps filled the air, interrupting the voice's thoughts. "You're late."
"A wizard is never late Draco Malfoy. Nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to." The silky smooth voice chided his student, quoting one of the most famous books of all time. Neither he nor Draco heard the small gasp that had escaped Harry's lips. Just below him stood a student at Hogwarts talking about joining ranks with none other then Voldemort.
"Very cute Sev, now if you don't mind, can we please get a move on. The sooner we make rank, the sooner we can be away from that infuriating git."
"Why Draco I had no idea you thought so highly of 'My Lord'. You really should be less subtle about it." Snape's voice was mocking the young blonde arrogantly.
"What? No, I was speaking about Father, but now that you mention it, Voldemort is a piece of work too."
"I believe that is an understatement. You really should consider staying. When Dumbledore agreed to let you do this, I'm sure he didn't mean for you to miss classes."
"Oh give it up, I only have Muggle Studies right now, and I would miss that happily any day. Even for the hell I'm serving with you. Now let's go before he decides we're not worth being kept alive. I'm sure that my death would be more severely disappointing to Dumbledore than my missing some silly little class."
Two pairs of footsteps rang out through the staircase, bringing Harry back out of his trance. Realizing his folly, Harry was forced to run the rest of the way to Charms, his mind returning back to the conversation he had just overheard. The rest of the day seemed to speed by, as Harry fighting to take his mind off of what had gone on between Snape and Draco.
But by the time Care of Magical Creatures rolled around, Harry had to admit defeat. It wasn't until then that he realized Draco was missing.
"Now where's Malfoy eh? Anyone seen 'im?" Hagrid asked gruffly, looking pointedly at the Slytherins who all shook their heads and snickered.
"Well he better have a good excuse, 'cause I could use some help washing the school windows." As Hagrid went on to explain what they were doing in class, Harry let his mind drift back to lunch where he realized he had not seen Draco or Snape there either. He tried to ignore the tinge of worry that spread through the pit of his stomach.
Ron and Hermione kept shooting glances over at their friend throughout the lesson who was absentmindedly staring into space. Neither dared to go talk to Harry, knowing how upset he got when they broke him from his thoughts. Both assumed that his thoughts were not occupied by a blond Slytherin and insufferable potions master, but by a dark haired fugitive who was yet to be forgotten by any of them.
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A/N: so u like??? It took me ages to develop this god-forsaken chapter… I have never written a fanfiction chapter this long. Heck, this chapter is longer than the entirety of one of my stories… newayz, there will be actual Harry/Draco action to come so don't worry bout that, but itll def. take me ages to update cuz I have 3 stories I'm writing right now… speaking of which, yall should go read Out of this World and Deaf… and remember to review this 1… im def not afraid of constructive criticism… just please make sure its constructive and not insulting, otherwise its not helpful in the least… newayz, R/R!!! byeeee!!!