Author's Notes: Umm, before we start, just know two things. First: this is my first ficcie, so please be nice. If it sucks, lemme know, but don't be mean about it, ne? Second: I was only recently released from my padded, white walled shelter, so I know nothing of what the life style I'm writing about is like. If you have any tips or corrections I would love the input. Thanks and enjoy. Oh, and if I owned Harry Potter, do you really think I'd be writing fanfics like the lifeless person I am?

Warnings: slash, drugs, abuse, depression, self destruction, angst, etc, etc. no, this will not be a happy fic, and I don't guarantee a happy ending. read at your own risk.

Draco sighed as he felt his head begin to throb in time with the heavy beat of the music. Mentally berating himself for going to the club when he knew he should be home studying for his upcoming finals, Draco decided a break from the throbbing music and flashing lights was in order. Excusing himself from which ever faceless body he had picked up that night, the blonde made his way to the restrooms.

Relief flooding through him at the easing of his headache, Draco went to the last stall wanting desperately to sit down. After a few moments of just collecting his thoughts, Draco gave a rueful laugh.

It's sad how far the great have fallen. Oh, if only those idiots from Hogwarts could see me now. The great Slytherin Prince a drunken mess of a college student. A muggle college student, no less. Potter would die laughing.

Draco hadn't gotten far in his self-pitying before his peace was interrupted by the restroom door being slammed open. Rolling his eyes, the blonde prayed whoever had just entered wasn't planning on staying. His hope proved short lived when a hoarse voice spoke up.

"Here's your money, now hand it over."

A second voice, much less abused sounding than the first, chuckled, then replied.

"Yeah, but see, I've been thinking. I don't want your money. Not this time, 'cause I've heard tell that you can pay in other, more fun, ways than just cash. And I thought that I might enjoy getting paid that way."

"What the fuck are you talk- wait. No way. That was only once, and I sure as hell didn't want it. No way that's happening again. You can keep your goddamn shit if that's what you want."

The sound of someone moving to leave was quickly followed by something large and soft getting slammed into a wall. There was a murmur, which Draco couldn't make out, then the sound of struggling. Trying to convince himself it wasn't his problem, Draco left his hidden place in the stall and went to save who ever it was that was in trouble.

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"You can keep your goddamn shit if that's what you want." Harry glared up into the black eyes of the latest dealer he had found. Nearly growling in anger, he shoved past the slightly beefy man and went for the door. Thoughts of how to best find a new dealer, and fast, were cut short as a meaty hand grabbed his shoulder and slammed him face first into the bathroom wall.

Hot, rancid breath caressed the skin of his neck and face as the larger man leaned in close.

"You don't get it, do you?" came the low murmur next to his ear. "I don't care about the crack, but I do care that you've been holding out on me. And since everyone knows you poufs are always happy for something hard up the ass, I figure no harm done. Oh, and thanks in advance"

Harry's eyes widened as he felt the guy start pawing him, and panic took over. This had happened before, but he would be damned if it happened again. Gathering the strength his emaciated form hid, Harry shoved off of the wall in front of him, and twisted out of the man's grasp. Or tried to, as the burly man had been prepared for a fight. A swift fist in the gut had Harry gasping for air and trying not to double over as spots swam in front of his vision. Feeling his wrists being grabbed and pinned above his head, Harry's panicked efforts doubled.

Please, god, don't let it happen again. Not again, I can't take it again. Harry and the dealer's struggles were abruptly cut off as the larger man was grabbed by the back of his shirt and thrown head first into the opposite wall.

Gasping in air, and trying to calm his frantic heart rate, Harry jerked his gaze up at the familiar sound of his savior's incredulous voice.

"Potter?!"

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One look at the scene happening outside of the stall was enough to spur Draco to action. With practiced ease, he grabbed the back of the attacker's shirt and threw him face first into the wall behind them, then watched in contempt as the slime slumped to the floor, unconscious. Turning around to see if the victim needed any further help, Draco could feel what little drunkenness the rage hadn't burned away slip away in shock. Braced against the wall was a figure with raven hair and a scar that Draco would recognize anywhere.

"Potter?!"

End Prologue.

Author's Notes: Okay, there is more written. If you want it, the review button is your friend. Any flames will be summarily laughed at.