All right! Here's my latest work of fanfiction. (Yes, I know I'm a horrible, horrible person for making everyone wait.. What am I talking about? No one reads my stuff! XD!) So, just before I start...

Disclaimer: The characters in this story are solely the property of J.K.Rowling unless otherwise stated. The actions, dialogue, and title, story, and plot are property of myself, (Becky McKercher). I do not own Harry Potter, or any rights therein. (Though if I did, I wouldn't be complaining.)

This story contains fluffy shonen-ai goodness. If you are opposed to homosexual relationships, I suggest you leave. Thank you.

Pairing: DH

My Summer Nights

Harry sighed deeply as he looked out his window: another summer with the Dursley's. His last summer, perhaps, if he could find a way out of here. This coming year was his sixth- and it seemed all to far away. He couldn't believe it. It seemed like only yesterday he had been on the Hogwarts Train with Ron and Hermione, and now he was back in his room, cursing the very floor he stood on, merely a week later.

"I mean, come on Hedwig- is it so much to ask that they at least let me out of my room? This heat is dreadful." Harry glanced over at his snow owl, Hedwig. She was busy crunching down on a mouse. He winced slightly. "Ugh, Hedwig...!"

Suddenly something crashed into Harry's window, and Hedwig hooted loudly, dropping her prey.

"...Bloody hell, Harry! Shut that bloody owl up or you won't even get fish heads for your dinner!" An angry voice bellowed from downstairs.

Harry winced slightly and pulled up his window. Pigwidgeon was hooting and flying madly around poor Errol, the latter having just smashed his head into Harry's bedroom window. The two of them were carrying one letter each. Feeling better at just the thought of letters from his friends, Harry ignored Vernon's empty threat. He knew it was unlikely they'd give him anything as good as fish heads for dinner.

He ushered the two owls into his room and took his letters silently. His window open to catch the breeze, Harry sat down on his bed and began reading.

Draco had the usual sneer on his face as he stared out his window. Somehow, today was different from the others. He was bored as hell- which was normal, and felt like giving someone a good thrashing, (also normal) but he felt strange. He couldn't decide what it was. For whatever reason, he couldn't get that damned Potter boy out of his head.

"Hmph," he grumbled. "He's that annoying that he's invading the privacy of my summer." Draco growled and stood up, fumbling with a clasp on his shirt. "I know. I'll see if I can find that book. Maybe I can even find the right spell..."

Three hours later, Draco had hundreds of Dark Magic books laid out all around his room, some on passages of how to kill an enemy, others on how to "re-head" beheaded warlocks, one on "How to Detangle Yourself From a Mudglop," and others on various curses in general.

"Perfect. This one will do just fine." Malfoy stood, still holding the book and began chanting. The shutters flew open and shut on his bedroom windows, his king-size bed lifted into the air, and all of his belongings were drawn up in the great wind that whipped around his blond locks. Only the solitary Malfoy was left on the ground.

'Dear Harry,

How's your summer so far?' Harry smiled at the familiar handwriting. 'I hope the Dursley's aren't treating you too horribly. Have you been getting enough food? Do tell us if you need anything, dear. And don't be afraid to come and visit us at the burrow if you can! I've enclosed a nice new sweatshirt for you, and an early birthday cake. I hope you like it, I made it by hand and you know how troublesome our enchanted oven can get. Anyway, I thought I'd also let you know that our Ronald has been made a Prefect for a second year! We're so proud, but I'm sure he's told you that already!'

"He hasn't," Harry thought aloud. "I haven't heard from him at all..."

'But then again, maybe not. He seemed mighty embarrassed when he received news, so he might not have told you. Either way, it's a new year, and it's summer, so I hope you are enjoying yourself, Harry.

-Mrs.Weasley & family'

Harry looked at the second letter. It was placed in a grubby, soiled envelope with messy scrawl. 'Hagrid,' Harry immediately knew.

'Hey Harry, been wonderin' how you were doin' and all that. Just wanted to wish you an early happy birthday. See you at Hogwarts real soon.

-Hagrid'

So that was all. Harry had received letters from people he cared about- but none of which were his best friends. That was depressing. Harry jotted down some friendly replies with his quill and parchment, and then sent Errol and Pigwidgeon off, only briefly wondering why Pig had Hagrid's letter. He fell down onto his bed and stared at his ceiling.

"It's so boring here, Hedwig." The only reply he got was a soft hoot. Harry grumbled and rolled over on his bed, succumbing to sleep.

As the wind tossed his hair around, Draco could swear he heard someone calling his name. He daren't look away, however; in case of breaking the spell. He could feel his feet lifting off the ground. His head went fuzzy, and the next thing he knew he'd appeared on a very curvy suburban street full of identical houses.

"So this is Privet Drive? Dreadfully boring," Malfoy drawled. "I can't believe he lives in a muggle neighbourhood. How disgusting." Draco took a look around. "Number four, number four.. Ah! There it is." Draco pulled out his wand, (this being his first year to use magic without hassle from the Ministry of Magic,) and made his way to the front of the house. He rang the doorbell.

Big mistake.

Vernon made his way to the door, as purple-faced as ever.

"Bloody postman!" He grumbled. "I've already confiscated all of that boy's post today! Damn persistent...." The door swung open, and Vernon looked down to find a blond-eyed, bored looking teenager holding his wand lazily in his hand. "Y-you..!" He stammered, "What does your lot want with me?" He gave a nervous glance into the house. "Bloody magicians, you think you own the place."

"Actually, I just wanted to-"

"GET OUT!" Vernon roared, slamming the door in Draco's face.

"Umm..." Draco coughed slightly. "Damn muggles."

"Who was that, Vernon?" Petunia inquired, craning her neck to peer out the kitchen window. "I can't see anyone."

"Some bloody wizard friend of Harry's."

"Oh dear!" Petunia shrieked. "We'll have to move if this keeps up!"

Vernon Dursley grumbled something about "drills," and "needing to get to work." He stood up and went upstairs.

"Hmm..." Draco looked down at himself. "This should do." He was dressed fully in what he figured were normal, muggle clothes. He went back to the door and rang the doorbell.

"Coming! ...Bloody doorbell." Vernon answered the door again, half his face still covered in shaving cream. Malfoy spoke up with a lazy, off-handedly polite voice.

"Good morning sir, is Har-"

"NO! No one here is named Harry! OUT!" The door was once again slammed in Malfoy's gaunt face.

"...Argh!" Malfoy grabbed his muggle hat and threw it onto the ground. "This is stupid! I'll just magic myself up there." Malfoy groaned. "Though why I didn't think of that in the first place..."

There was a low rumbling outside, but the comatose Harry didn't even notice. He simply rolled over, lost in the dream of sharing a particularly good Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks with... Who was it? Ah, it didn't matter. Whoever it was, their arms were folded neatly over black and green robes, and they were laughing. Harry grinned and rested his chin on his hand, talking.

Suddenly, there was a change of scene and Harry was all alone in the darkness, with nothing to be seen except more blackness beyond. He was confused. Where was he, and what had he just been doing? It was like... He'd forgotten, and there wasn't anything he'd ever be able to see again, past or future. Almost.. Like he'd forgotten how to live. Then, out of the darkness came a figure dressed in white, smiling.

"Who-?" But before Harry could finish, they reached out to him with their hand.

"Come with me, Harry."

"Where-? Are you going to the Darkness?"

The figure laughed.

"Me? No. I've only just escaped. Harry, will you come?" The figure sounded unsure, and Harry felt the emotion reflected on himself.

"I don't understand... Why...." Harry watched as the darkness grew around the figure.

The closer you are to the light... The greater your shadow...

'Get away from him,' Harry thought. 'Not him... Leave him, take me instead!'

"Don't you remember?"

"I... I don't remember anything.." A ringing filled Harry's ears.

Malfoy could feel the rumbling of the thunder above intensifying (and hear it too) as he finished the final part of the spell:

"Transportus personus!" And then, he was inside the Dursley's house, in the second smallest bedroom at the top of the stairs. There he was- Potter. Hedwig gave a grumpy hoot as Draco pulled out the chair from Harry's desk and sat down on it. "What an ugly room. There's nothing in it. He should at least have a few cursed books, or something to liven it up. Mind you, with that muggle uncle.. Well, whatever, what do I care? I'm here to get this nuisance out of my head." He got to his feet, wand outstretched, ready to blast Harry to Bermuda. But something stopped him, the boy looked troubled. "Ugh, what is it Potter? Having nightmares again?" He sighed, slipped his wand back into his pocket and looked down at the boy.

'He's so... Innocent looking. Who would've guessed the famous Harry Potter could be having nightmares? Hmmph. He... His features are twisted. Doesn't suit him. He usually looks a lot better when-' Malfoy's eyes grew large and his hand flew to his mouth. 'Ugh! What am I thinking? It must be this beastly heat. Oh, I know.. I'll conjure up a cooling charm. Bet I could do that ten times better than you, Potter.' And then aloud, he said:

"Frostus."

Instantly, the room was filled with a cool breeze. The waves of cold hit Malfoy hard, but he could tell it was a relief to the sleeping Harry; the boy even looked less pained.

" I wonder what he's dreaming about, anyway... It must be pretty bad... Too bad, too. I really wanted to whip Potter into shape with a good duel." He put a hand to Harry's head, carefully as not to wake him. He didn't stir. "He's got a slight temperature, too... Ugh. I don't know what muggles do for this sort of thing..."

"Harry! Harry!" The voice rang throughout the field.

'A boy? Who...?' Harry turned. "Who are you?" The boy smiled, and stuck out his hand.

"I'm... Call me Drac- er.. Dragon. That's what I always wanted my name to be! That's way cooler than Draco, anyway."

"Draco?"

"Yup! That's my real name."

"Dragon... Heh..." He gave a half-grin, amused.

"What's your name?

"Harry. Harry Potter."

"Draco.." Harry murmured, still asleep. The real Draco nearly jumped into Harry's nightstand.

"What..!?" He looked over, surprised, but Harry was seemingly still asleep. "...Harry..? He looks so... Why do I want to kiss him...? Draco closed one of his eyes, his face in a half grimace. "Well... I can't help who I fall in love with... But ugh, why Potter? We're enemies…! Aren't we?" Draco crouched down next to Harry. "Hmmph."

Harry looked down at himself. He was smaller, a child now. He was younger, like Draco. 'Dragon,' he corrected himself mentally.

"Harry! Let's go play! You can be the princess stuck in the castle!" Dragon grinned.

"What! I don't want to be the princess!"

"Aw, come on, I'll come save you!"

"But you're the dragon!"

"It doesn't matter!" Dragon laughed. "Take my hand!" He reached out to help Harry to his feet.

"Now, all I see is you." Draco bent over Harry and kissed him softly. Harry wasn't as restless anymore. He turned over, in a peaceful sleep. "Goodbye... rival." Draco pulled out his wand and disapparated.

"Harry... I've got to go. Bye Harry!" Draco ran over to him and smiled. "I'll see you soon!"

"Wait! I'm still stuck in the tower!"

"I can't, I have to go!"

"But you didn't save me yet, Draco!"

"Bye Harry!"

Grinning, the memory faded, and Harry turned around.

Draco, now his present age was bent over Harry, kissing him. Harry felt a warm, sinking sensation, and closed his eyes.

...

Thunder boomed outside, and Harry awoke, a strange sensation in his heart. His hand immediately flew to his scar - no, it was different this time. It was a peaceful feeling. It was a feeling of love.

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"And often times,
I'll think of you,
And all the days we had.
I'll often wish my summer nights
Had not gone by so fast."

-soulwithwings

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Well, that's it that's all. R & R, if you'd like. =3 Constructive criticism is appreciated, flames will be publicly mocked and/or used to roast marshmellows.

-soulwithwings