Hello! This fic starts Pre-Hogwarts, and will follow Harry and Draco through their Hogwarts years. If this fic is well received, updates will become more regular, but as it is my first fic, frequent updates are questionable at the time being. This will eventually turn into Draco/Harry when the boys get older, but they are still small, so nothing yet. Please review or whatever, criticism is welcome!
Somewhere, In the Forbidden Forest-Spring
I am not lost. Harry thinks for what seems like the hundredth time. But Harry is quite sure he has seen that rock at least three times, and that tree six. It all just looks the same. Even so, Harry continues his journey through the woods, with nightfall on his heels. With nightfall brought fear, and Harry had no means of light. He can just barely hear a crow's haunting calls in the distance. He shivers, and continues on his lonely trail, remembering his oath to never return to his so called 'family.' He can feel the forest's almost human-like feeling, wild and unpredictable, answering to no one.
There was also a slight ringing noise in his head, and Harry was not quite sure of the reason.
"I am not lost..." Harry whispers, pushing his broken glasses farther up his nose. He looks through the cracked lenses, partially squinting due to it not being his actual prescription, but a cheap pair bought by his 'Aunt Petunia' when he was five. She had bought them when she realized that Harry kept missing dust while cleaning the house, and they effectively covered his piercing green eyes. But as the sky got darker and Harry could barely see his feet, he broke his resolve to move forwards and decided to just rest. At least it's better than the cupboard, Harry thinks, remembering the ice cold cupboard he slept-no -lived in, stomach numb from not being fed for days. He could last a day or so in the woods. It would be no worse than a few more days on only a singular can of soup.
But even so, Harry was only a day over nine. If he dare say so himself, he was scared. What would the future bring? Harry struggled with knowing the fact that he was alone in this place. However, he whispered softly to himself, saying "Be brave, you brought this upon yourself. You'll never have to see them, again." And so Harry found a flatter piece of ground, gently moved his clothing around, and quickly fell into a fitful, sleep.
He dreamt of his uncle. Hundreds of miles away, he was still under his thumb, pliable and yearning for affection. All Harry could picture was his great large prunish face, his sausage fingers jabbing at his face. It was only a broken picture frame, of his cousin Dudley, looking rather like a beach ball in his new schools's uniform. He hadn't even meant to have broken it. Dudley had tripped him while he had been serving breakfast, and he nicked the side of the frame while he fell. But Uncle Vernon saw it as an unspoken threat for his family, and when Uncle Vernon was threatened he only ever seemed to get angrier.
Harry remembers as if it were only hours ago, he could still feel was the way he held the lighter under his face, a mere centimeter away from singeing his hair. He could still smell the pungent odour of burning skin, the way he felt a pull on his stomach, starting to dry heave from the wild look in his Uncle's eyes, the pain searing through his head, trying to not cry out.
Crying out only ever made the punishments worse in Harry's experience. His uncle had attacked Harry's scar, the little lightning bolt scar on his forehead, the one thing Harry actually liked about himself. All that was left of the scar was blistered skin and a strange dark crimson bloodlike substance gushing out of it. And then he was here, in the forest, his last meal being a stale piece of bread from the prior night, just a tad bit thankful for even that small amount of food.
Harry woke up to a small voice beneath his foot, urging him to wake up. He wasn't sure if it was real or not, but a beautiful scaled snake seemed to be trying to get his attention. "Follow me, young snakelet. There is someone you should meet." It said, nudging at his foot to make him go faster. Harry, with lack of better things to do, and nothing to lose, decided he would follow the emerald snake. For the only thing Harry could control was his life, his existence, and it wouldn't really make much of a difference if he lived or died. So what if the snake was just a ploy to kill him, it wouldn't really matter now, would it? With this, Harry heaved up his bag and followed the snake.
He soon learned of what the snake was leading him towards, and was thoroughly surprised at learning he wasn't alone in the forest. When Harry first saw him, he swore he saw an angel. He silently thanked the snake, before it went slithering off into a brush. For a second, he thought he saw wings as the sun passed through, but Harry was sure that was only a trick of the light. But here was the blonde boy, silently crying.
The boy seemed like he was in his own world, seeing nothing of the forest around them. He seemed ethereal, untouchable, as if he was on a whole different dimension. It was then that the boy, with his strange regal facial structure, and high cheekbones, seemed to notice Harry. When he locked eyes with Harry, Harry quickly glanced away, trying to stop the awkward tension from growing.
It was at this point of time that Harry decided to observe the surroundings he had landed himself in. There was a rundown but quaint cottage that seemed to blend in with the surrounding forest, the light shimmering throughout it like a mirage. The cottage also had the strange, ethereal feeling about it, which Harry couldn't quite place.
In a few minutes, the boy seemed to gather himself, silently taking note of his surroundings. "I-if I may ask, who are you?" the blonde questioned, trying to look condescendingly down at Harry, but failing to with his red rimmed eyes and slight stutter.
"Harry. Harry Pot- Just Harry."
"Draco." the blonde boy murmured. It was at this moment that Harry saw red on Draco's left arm, not quite processing this, but later whispered, "You're bleeding, let me help." Draco scoffed and looked away. "It's nothing. In fact, you're looking a bit peaky, even worse than I do."
"Gee, thanks." Harry replied sarcastically. Upon further investigation, Harry noticed Draco's scar was clearly from a knife, with harsh bruises around his arm, which were fading by the second.
Eyes wide, Harry stared at the wound, at last realizing that this boy was undeniably human, to which brought a great amount of embarrassment to Harry. Harry exclaimed, "This place must have healing qualities or something…It's like m-magi-" before quieting, frightened that Draco might be the same as his aunt and uncle. "It's magic, what did you think it was?" Draco snapped. "But magic isn't real!" Harry exclaimed, while wringing his hands nervously. Uncle Vernon always punished Harry when he said the M-word. Draco sighed audibly. Of course he had to be stuck with some clueless, possibly muggle kid. But either way, they were stuck in the same situation. Sighing, Draco skipped over the topic, determined to tell him later about magic.
"Do you have a place to stay, Just Harry?" he asked. Harry thought for a moment before quietly responding,"C-could I possibly...maybe…if not i-inconvenient… Join you here?"
