CHAPTER 1

For most of his life Harry Potter had been plagued with strange and rather horrifying dreams, replaying the many encounters he'd had with Voldemort, predicting future events and such. On this night however, sleeping on a handsome four poster at number 12 Grimauld place, Harry had the most disturbing dream of them all:

A tall, slender blonde boy stood alone in an alley outside a London pub. His shirt was torn and bloody, and his face, arms and torso were drenched in what appeared to be human blood. Small droplets had accumulated on his eyelashes like light rain often does. Then the rain began soft at first, then a downpour so intense that the boy was soaked in seconds. Harry watched from above, like a spirit he was invisible. The boy sunk onto the ground, only then did Harry see...in his hand the boy clutched a heavy, rusty knife, and on his left arm there was a wound so deep half his arm appeared to be missing. The boy raised the knife and cut into the wound again, gasping for breath, the blonde continued to cut at the wound, muttering to himself. Suddenly Harry was alone with the boy...'he looks so familiar' Harry thought. The blonde sat next to Harry on a sofa, in a large and beautiful house that Harry had never seen before. Harry touched the place on the boys arm where the wound had been, all he saw was a dark-mark, black, and strong. Harry kissed the mark but said nothing, the boy touched Harry's cheek gently. The two sat in silence until the boy spoke "This isn't what i want" he said indicating the mark on his forearm

"What do you want?" asked Harry

"This" replied the boy pulling Harry close until their noses touched. Harry kissed the boy softly, then harder, until the boy pulled away. The boy looked up meeting Harry's eyes for the first time...they were pale grey-blue surrounded by thick black lashes. Harry blinked; this boy was so familiar...

"NO!" Harry awoke with a start, he sat up, and his body was shaky, sweaty and slightly aroused...'I did not just dream that I kissed Malfoy...right? Wrong, shit shit shit...what the hell?' Harry stayed awake the rest of the, incapable of reasonable thought. He turned the dream over and over in his head. 'What had Malfoy been doing in the alley? Why was he cutting himself? Was he cutting off the dark-mark? But why?' and most importantly 'Why in the HELL did I kiss him' on and on it went 'I mean its not like I enjoyed it...right...oh god...I mean it wasn't even that good of a kiss...right...it was horrible really...well ok mediocre...Fine it was alright...good even...NO! how can I say that?'

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The last few days would haunt Draco Malfoy for the rest of his life, he had seen disturbing things, things nobody else ever had...well most people anyway. He had been forced to watch as the Dark Lord had tortured his parent's brutally. Lucius died first, he made the "mistake" as the Dark Lord called it, then Narcissa, it would have been Draco's turn, but Voldemort had a better idea...Everything at Malfoy manner was destroyed, including the graves of his ancestors. The mansion had come crashing down around Draco who was simply waiting to be killed..."But what better punishment than a life with nothing?" Voldemort had asked in his cruel voice, Draco couldn't answer, "No ideas?...That is all" Voldemort and his Death-Eaters disapperated leaving Draco alone at the ruined Malfoy manor.

At that moment there was no doubt in Draco's mind as to where his allegiances lay. He would no longer be a slave to the Dark Lord. Draco disapperated from his home to an alley outside a bar in London. He went in and had a few drinks……then a few more….and then another few. He spoke angrily at the bartender "You don't know….he… he…everything…" Draco carried on about his now pointless life, ranting, and finally bursting into a torrent of anguished tears.

"Get this kid outta here" grunted the bartender in a thick Glasgow accent.

Draco sat out in the alley and immediately started racking his drunken mind for a charm that would remove the searing dark-mark from his arm. Nothing came to mind. He grabbed a dull, rusty knife from the ground and sliced angrily into his arm. He stabbed his forearm repetitively until the better part of his arm was reduced to a bloody pulp. He cried harder and harder, wiping his eyes with his bloody arm. Draco stood, and leaned against a dumpster; he tore off a piece of his shirt to wipe the wound. That's when the rain started, a heavy down pour that rinsed the massive wound. To Draco's horror the mark still sneered up at him. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" Draco let out an aggravated and terrified scream. Sinking back to the ground he began to cut at his wound again, groaning with pain he cut deeper and deeper; Draco had the strange sensation that he was being watched.

Suddenly everything went blank and Draco fell into a bloody, drunken sleep against the dumpster, dreaming of the horror that composed his life…and something else:

Draco sat on his mother's favorite antique love seat in the sitting room at Malfoy manner. He was joined by a mysterious but familiar handsome raven haired boy who lightly touched his arm, tracing the thick, black, mark that remained; kissing it softly. "This isn't what I want" Draco said, pointing at the dark-mark.

"What do you want?" the boy asked brusquely

Draco brought the boys face to his, kissing him gently, and then harder, finally pulling away to look him in the eye……a perfect green….

"GAH" Draco awoke cold, wet, drenched in blood, livid and positively disgusted by his dream, but he had no time to think of that. He stumbled forward a few paces before realizing he was to hung-over and too weak with blood-loss to go any further.