Lost and Found

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to me...in my dreams. In reality, however, all characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and I own nothing...(sobbing!!!!)

NOTE: This is going to be Slash...So if homosexual relationship is not your cup of tea, please hit the back button and leave now!!! Do not read this story then flame me for my "sinful" and "impure" thoughts. Also, I apologize in advance for my imperfect English. I shall try my best to minimize mistakes, but since English is not my mother language, please give me some leeway for grammar errors.

Umm...I also would like to apologize in advance for those who found the plots of my story familiar to theirs. I have read A LOT of fanfictions, and maybe unconsciously stealing some of yours. I shall try to be original, but that is so hard to do with so much fantastic work out there (check out my favorite list...and Dark Chocolate as well as White Chocolate at Right now it's my favorite fanfic since Midnight Blue is not updating her "Mirror of Maybe" and Jitterbug1 is not updating her "Draco Malfoy and his Happily Ever After"). Also, for those of you who like HP/SS relationship, check out I Got Tired of Waiting's sequel to Amireal's "Pledge". It is AMAZING!!! I cried so hard at the end of the story, but was happy at the same time that my favorite couple is happily united. On the note of that, check out Telanu's Tea and Coffee series (it's sexy, fun, and mind blowing!) and Sushi's "Civil War" and its series, too (this is what actually introduced me to HPSS slash). Both can be found at

And now, on with the story....

Prolog

The night is cold and unforgiving, but her darkness is nothing in comparison to the kind of darkness that lurks in the heart of men, one in particular.

The said man is trudging through the thick snow of December. Snow seeps through the layers of his clothing, chilling to the bone, but it does not stop him from reaching his destination.

"Only a few more steps," he keeps telling himself, "then you'll be free of this burden forever."

It has been an accident that led them to this decision. A good kind of accident. Earlier that morning, he has shut the boy in the cupboard just as soon as his wife finished feeding him. They have finished decorating the Christmas tree, and were starting on decorating the front of their house when they heard a loud crash from inside the house.

What they found inside the house has left them speechless with rage and fear; somehow the boy has found his way out of the cupboard and is now unconscious under the weight of the Christmas tree. He was a fearful sight; his fore head has been ripped open by a metal hook that served as decoration on the tree. The wound was quite large; consider that it ran across his left eye and down to his cheek. Blood was pooling from his head, soaking the boy's clothes and dying the white carpets an ugly red color.

Picking up the boy, the man immediately wrapped him a trash bag to obscure the tiny body from prying eyes (he does have noisy neighbors, after all) and took it out to the car. Since then, he has driven many miles to a less known destination in hope of dumping this little baggage.

He won't get into trouble for this, since no one knows of the boy's exishtence in his house except for those freaks. Even if they do, they might have forgotten about the brat because no one has come to check on the him for the longest time. But, what can they do if the boy is dead? It's not his fault that freaks tend to kill themselves with their freakiness! This boy is no exception!

His wife has been fearful of the consequences, but he was able to convince her that this is necessary for the safety of their family. After all, who on earth would want such abomination in their home, especially it could so easily infected the good health of his only son. No, they've made a right decision, and by God, he is going to stick to it.

Looking around to make sure no one is in sight, the man put the bundle down near the edge of the forest, and hurriedly makes his way back to the car. If he drives extra fast, perhaps he would make it home to see his son opens his Christmas present.

The deer is running for his life with a hungry hound at his heel. If he turns right, it would lead him further into the forest, but he turns left, he would be closer to the border than his liking. But the hound would not leave the border, and that would give him a chance at survival. And so, the deer springs toward the meadow near the border of the forest with the hound only a few feet behind him, leading them closer to the place where a boy named Harry Potter is lying.