Title – False Truths

Author – Akasha

Pairing(s) – Harry/Draco

Disclaimer – Alas, I own nothing, least of all the rights to the characters of this story.

Rating – R

Summary – A nightmare on the night of his seventeenth birthday gives Harry Potter an abysmal glimpse into the future. Vowing to ensure that the dream doesn't become prophetic Harry makes starts to prevent the inevitable.

Warnings – Violence in the first chapter, Slash, mentions of non-con in later chapters.

Categories – angst/drama

Spoilers - All books, including Order Of The Phoenix

Feedback – Yes please.

Beta – Melanie thanks hun.

Prologue

I used to find myself longing and waiting for the future to come – now I
long and wait for the past to return.

The school was a bloodbath.

Wizards lay dead on the floor; the moon was hidden by the dark storm clouds that were unleashed their own fury on the world below. The smell of blood was in the air, the sight of it stained the floor, diluted by the rain and spreading over everything.

It was a war zone.

The Hogwarts Castle loomed in the distance and he knew that was his target. He had to get there. Tightening his grip on his wand Harry Potter pulled himself up using the tree next to him for support. He was badly injured; he had not even come face-to-face with Voldemort yet and he was already dying. He could feel his body shutting down.

There was a spike through his middle -- it stretched the already torn skin more as he moved, but he knew to pull it out would be terrible mistake.

His eyes were crusted with blood, the result of hours of fighting and having the Cruciatus Curse thrown at him, amongst other things. He could not feel his left hand thanks to the make-shift tourniquet Hermione had strapped on him to stop the wound in his arm from causing him to bleed to death.

Better an arm than his life.

Though Harry knew that he was just buying time to kill Voldemort and then he could lie down and die in peace.

It will be nice, Harry sighed, no more pain.

Limping towards the castle, manoeuvring through the dead bodies that were littering the ground, Harry made a point not to look at them. He did not want to see the blank faces of his friends and allies that he had failed to protect.

He knew that amongst them there where an equal amounts of black-clad Death- Eaters but just because the numbers evened out didn't make Harry feel better.

It seemed that there was nobody else alive. Harry knew differently though, many of the survivors had run to the Forbidden Forest for the cover of trees to nurse injuries and Harry prayed that Hermione and Ron had made it there.

He would kill Voldemort.

The medics would come and they would all be saved.

He would be free.

With a growl Harry felt himself fall forward, he detangled his foot from the body which he'd fallen over and bit back a sob. Gently he stroked the long red hair of the youngest Weasley, pulling his hand back he saw that it was now stained with the blood that poured from her head.

She must have fallen and hit it hard after the Avada Kedavra curse got her, Harry concluded; her blank eyes were defiantly a result of that unforgivable.

Hauling himself up again Harry gripped his wand tighter in his right hand. The castle was closer now and Harry started to walk again. When he got to the old, heavy oak doors he allowed himself a moment to mourn. The left one had been blasted apart in the first move of the attack, now the bricks from the side of it were crumbling away and it looked nothing like the welcoming doors he had come to associate with home.

The courtyard was even bloodier than the rest, the fountain's refreshing water was now the colour of blood and Harry wished for once that it hadn't been enchanted to repel rain. He wanted nothing more that to see the courtyard cleansed.

The gargoyles where now scattered brokenly around the floor, no longer perched high on the roofs, they had come alive in the attack to protect the castle.

They had not lasted long.

Nothing had lasted long in this battle.

It had been six hours since Dumbledore had announced that there was an army gathering around the castle. They had spent an hour locked inside awaiting the Ministry to come. However, they had not arrived in time; Death-Eaters had snuck in using many of the secret passages and opened the to doors to the rest.

Dumbledore had been the first to fall, rushing to protect his students.

As he had fallen, the shields around the castle had crumbled and all hell had broken loose.

Students had become soldiers in a matter of minutes.

Shaking his head solemnly, Harry stepped through the door; he walked towards the great hall. As he looked inside, he almost retched.

A large cross had been constructed out of the tables in the centre of the Hall.

A body had been nailed onto it.

Crucified.

Hovering above the cross, bloodstained letters spelled out 'Behold What Happens To Traitors'. Nails had been forced through the victims wrists and ankles, Harry wondered why Voldemort had taken to such muggle brutality. Taking a step forwards Harry lost what little control he had over his stomach and threw up.

Wiping his mouth roughly with the back of his numb hand, he closed the rest of the distance and looked up at the body.

The pale skin that covered the naked body was stained with blood and looked almost transparent. He looked to the victim's right arm and saw that about an inch away from where the nail was, the dark mark sat proudly.

Next Harry did the thing he was almost afraid to do; he looked into the victims face.

His blonde hair was bloodstained and falling in a wet mess around his face, his head had lolled forwards and Harry hoped that he had passed out before to much pain had been inflicted upon him. The sharp cuttings of a knife mutilated the usual angular, proud features and the repeated use of the torturous curse Harry was all too familiar with.

Then blood-shot grey eyes flickered open and Harry felt his stomach lurch once more, how this boy could still be alive.

"Potter" the voice choked, his voice dry and raspy,

"Malfoy" Harry spoke, biting back a sob as he saw the blood tracks from his once-enemy's eyes.

"Help me" was the forced reply and Harry nodded. There was only one thing that could save Draco Malfoy now.

He raised his wand and with a flash of green and a silent prayer, the body fell limp in front of him.

Before he could get over the guilt that flooded his brain, he heard applause from behind him. He spun on his heals and looked into the deformed, mangled face of the darkest wizard history had ever seen.

"Voldemort" Harry growled,

"Indeed" the wizard steepled his hands and drummed his fingers against each other, "It is time" he spat with a finality that chilled Harry to the bone, then a thin hand raised the wand that had killed his parents so long ago. Harry woke up in his bed screaming.