Disclaimer: I don't own this sadly! And im not making any profit off of this!

Rating:M

Warning:future slash Harry/Draco pairing,language and anything else thats M rated lol

A/N this is my first story so bare with me. Please review and tell me how you feel about it. And also I do not have a beta so therefore I'm only having friends correct it!if your willing to beta please let me know!i would appreciate it muchhhh!tell me what you think of the story and what you want to see!my writing is rusty because I haven't written in a while but please bare with me!

Edited: I am editing all my chapters since i now have a beta! Her name is dracoangelica Yay thanks to her she's doing an amazing job. A lot of props most definitely goes out to her!..anyways every chapter that I have so far will all get edited so writing chapter seven will take a little while comin out..hopefully not to long! I'm well pleas everyone that you all liked the un beta'd version but i hope you enjoy this!:) I can honestly say it feels so good to have a beta now:)

Chapter one:

In the Griffindor common room, a fire crackled and spat. Up the winding stairs of the warm red and gold dormitory, Hogwarts students slept peacefully, ignorant to a war that was raging in the mind of a troubled boy.

In the sixth year dormitories, Harry Potter tossed and turned. Within his mind there was a flash of green light, and he heard a terrified scream in the echoing blackness of his nightmare. He clawed to wakefulness, opening blurry eyes as sweat soaked his sheets, hair, and nightclothes. He had been trapped in the dream. Left behind. Harry knew that the screaming voice was all alone and he couldn't return.

The world was blurry. Harry couldn't see without his glasses, he couldn't see through the tears in his eyes and the dark of the dormitory, once a comforting blanket of peace was now an oppressive blanket of sensory deprivation. Slowly, he pushed himself up panting from his mental horror and shaking off the terror of his nightmare. He moved his hand over his chest, pulled and clenched at the green night shirt that lay over his heart. Harry shivered in the dark and touched his cold and wet face. His tongue darted out and tasted salt on his lips. His eyes burned and he shuddered in the after effects of his nightmare. He couldn't move past the flash of green light. He was no stranger to nightmares, no stranger to something invading his dreams and sleep. Was it relieving the death of Cedric that had him so upset? No. This horrible dream was different than the tragic night two years ago. He lay back down and closed his eyes, focusing his mind on what he'd heard and seen. He'd recognized his own screams. There was the distant horror that he would never awaken again. He couldn't ignore the remembered terror and prodded at it like a rotten tooth.

Slowly, he brought the dream into perspective, into a place where he could examine it. Clearly, he could see a figure, a boy he thought, in pain. The figure was curled onto the ground and howling out in agony, begging…someone. Harry opened his eyes to blurry darkness. Perhaps Voldemort was playing his favorite game? Torture someone and let Harry Potter dream it? No…it felt different. He usually could do nothing in these dreams. He was a mannequin with no ability to move or speak. Usually he'd have no power and while he never wanted to see someone hurt, he couldn't do a thing. This was different. Much different from the usually torture-porn-voyeurism. If he concentrated, he understood he COULD change it.

But how?

"Harry! Harry Potter, PLEASE!"

The voice was so familiar…so close to someone he knew.

Harry rubbed his face, the tears starting to dry. He got out of bed and stripped off his wet shirt and pulled his sheets off his mattress. He left it on in a pile on the ground and then got back in bed, bare chest on a bare mattress, his green eyes focusing on the problem of the voice.

Who was screaming? It didn't sound like a woman's voice. He heard his mother's shout too often to confuse this yell with that. Why would he be dreaming about a man screaming? No doubt in his mind that it had to do with Voldemort, his unwilling dream-mate. But who could be in danger?

Harry contemplated the problem for a little longer but after several minutes, he blinked his gritty eyes and inhaled. Then with his exhale, he gave up figuring out the problem. Heart heavy, he curled back up on the bare mattress, praying he wouldn't have the dream again.

" Who are you? " Harry whispered to himself as he drifted off to sleep.

Down below, down deep into the Slytherin dormitories, far blow in the dungeons, another boy, unused to the same terrors, silently sobbed out two words.

"Save me."

There was no one to hear him.

Draco Malfoy's eyes focused on the green and silver tapestries that hung from the stone walls of his room. He opened his mouth and gulped air and he felt the manacles of his dream. He shuddered as the cold in the room came closer, gripping him tighter and tighter, until he dipped back into slumber. His pillow remained cold and wet in the dank confines of his room. He pulled his blankets close, looking for comfort.

He stared into the mirrors that his mother had sent him. They reflected light in the dank space very well, but they also had the unfortunate side effect of reflecting his own reflection at him as he lay in a well of his own misery.

He remembered how much the Dark Mark had burned when it had been given to him. He'd wanted nothing more than to have his arm cut from him than to have the Dark Lord press that wand into his flesh. He stared at the evil green snake in the darkness and felt it pulse with promise and with pain. He was going to fail.

Draco squeezed his eyes shut and inhaled deeply, trying to work past this horror so he could sleep. He was alone. Completely alone. And unless there was someone who knew what to do…someone he could trust…he was going to bungle it up and kill not only himself, but his father and mother too. As he drifted off the sleep, he couldn't help repeating the words aloud that he'd repeated so many times in his dreams.

"Save me. Please…someone save me."

The next morning Harry's bed shook. Green eyes snapped open to see a fuzzy red-headed blob shaking the posters. He sat up quickly, reaching his hands out for balance.

"It's morning!"

Harry groaned and rolled over.

The earthquake started again. "Harry! Mate, c'mon get up!" Harry pulled his pillow over his crazy brown hair. The earthquake moved to from a 6 to an 8. Harry!"

"Ron really? I just fell asleep," Harry groaned.

It's breakfast time you soggy git. C'mon, I'm starving," Ron said.

Harry moaned again. "Alright…alright." He sat up and scrubbed his face with his palm, mumbling, "I'm up. I'm up."

The earthquake stopped and Harry reached over to get his glasses from the table. His hand met air.

"Where the bloody hell," he groused, turning his head over to see his bedside table.

"Umm, 'bout that Harry…there's something I need to tell you," Ron said.

"Yeah? Go on..." Harry mumbled while getting up, using his hands to search for his glasses.

"Um yeah!" Ron said, backing away to pull out some clean robes. "You see…I woke up and saw your sheets on the floor."

"Uh huh," Harry said, checking under his pillows.

"And I found your shirt too," Ron continued.

"I know. I was hot last night," Harry said, moving to look at the foot of his bed and his trunk for the missing spectacles.

"Well…" Ron continued.

"Damn." Harry said, interrupting him. He grabbed his wand and whipped it quickly. "Accio Glasses!" A twisted bend of glass and metal whipped out of Ron's pocket and into Harry's hand.

Both boys stood silently as Harry regarded the mangled spectacles.

"It was an accident!" Ron said, diving back behind his bed. "When I got up, I sort of stepped on them…"

"Ron!" Harry said feeling the broken bits over in his hand. "What am I supposed to do about these?"

"I tried Reparo but…"

Harry shook his head. He knew he must have knocked them off his bedside table with his flailing last night.

"Now how am I supposed to see?" he grumbled. He carefully folded them shut and then put the mangled wires on the bed. Quickly he got dressed. "I'll see if Madame Pomfrey can't fix them later." He glared over at him. "But I'm taking my headaches out on you."

Ron groaned and turned, pulling wrinkled and rumpled robes on over his clothes. "I said I was sorry," he said.

Harry got dressed, slipped the wires and glass bits in his bag and then shrugged. "Nah. It's fine."

Relieved, Ron followed him out. It seemed as if all the other boys in the dorms had already left for the morning and were down eating.

"You think Pomfrey is going to talk about how much she likes your face again?"

Harry shoved him. "Shut it!" He said, blushing. Still, he'd been in the infirmary enough time in the last six years to hear over and over again how it was "Such a shame that a fine wizard such as Harry wouldn't let her just try and fix his eyes for him." How the glasses marred his handsome face.

He wondered what it would take to have magic fix his vision when the sharp tongue of their other friend broke through his reverie.

"THERE you two are!" They heard the snap of the book closing before they saw her. "Do you know how long I've been waiting for you two?" Hermione Granger stood up, robes straight and neat and a pile of books barely contained by her backpack. "You're late!" she added unnecessarily. She stood straight with a hand rested on her hip. A hip that he noticed Ron glancing at with some appreciation.

Harry nudged him and Ron coughed, changing his expression from appreciation to feigned bafflement.

"Potions isn't for two hours. What's the rush?"

"Perhaps some of us," She said "Enjoy getting the food while it's hot." She frowned and then looked at Harry critically. It felt likebeing under the eye of an eagle. Harry shifted uncomfortably and then strode towards the door that exited the Gryffindor dormitories.

"What happened this morning to keep sir-eats-all-things,"

"Hey!" Ron protested.

"—away from his favorite time of the morning?" Herminone asked.

"Someone broke my glasses," Harry offered, tossing a glance back at Ron.

"I'm sure he didn't mean to," Hermione said. Ron looked gratified. "I'm talking about the shadows under your eyes Harry," she said.

"Just some dreams. Nothing to worry about," he reassured.

"Hmm," She said, not sounding convinced in the least.

"How'd you know he didn't sleep well?" Ron asked.

"Because Ron," She said patiently, turning the corner with them towards the dining hall. "I know everything."

Harry rolled his eyes at their flirting but then smiled to himself. Blurry day or no, this was still better than any day I'd ever spent at home with the Durselys. At least here it was a friend breaking his glasses by mistake than a bully punching him in the face.

As if summoned by the thought, Harry tripped and hit the wall, a warm body pressed against his back as his cheek kissed cold stone. He heard breath in his ear and for a wild moment, he heard a voice that reminded him of the dream-man's begging…of his screaming. Then he realized who had tripped into him and pressed them both into this wall.

"Why are you always where you don't need to be Potter?" Malfoy sneered. Harry shoved back from the wall and the boy stumbled back beside him. Harry turned and met Draco's blue eyes with his own green.

"Maybe if someone watched where they were stepping, they wouldn't trip over me," he shot back. Malfoy smoothed his robes and he noticed Hermione and Ron next to Harry.

"Move." He ordered, tossing his nose a bit higher.

Ron started to clench his fist but Harry touched his arm. "Sod off Draco," Harry hissed, pulling Ron back as he passed them by. Draco's eyes narrowed at him and then he spun, walking away with his characteristic arrogance.

Harry let go of Ron's shoulder by stared at Draco as he walked away. Something niggled at his memory as he saw Draco's form become silhouetted in the sunshine and shadows of the corridor.

"What a sneaky little weasel," Herminone said, shaking her head.

"Hey, don't insult weasels!" Ron said. Hermione chuckled.

"Sorry Ron," she said. Then she glanced over at Harry. "Harry? What was that all about?"

Harry shrugged. "Just Malfoy being Malfoy I guess," he said.

Hermione looked relieved. "Just ignore him," she said. "We have a lot more to worry about than the likes of him, I assure you."

Harry nodded, a bit pre-occupied by his thoughts. As he sat down and began to grab food the thought occurred to him that Malfoy might know something about that odd dream he was having. In fact, he decided. Malfoy might know exactly what was going on.