Ok, guys. I wrote this on a spur of the moment thing, there is no actual story yet, this is just a quick prologue, but here's the thing. I have NO IDEA what it's a prologue to. I have no idea where I should take this. I want to make it an R rated Harry/Draco fic but I don't know where to start. Please read it and leave me a review or send me an email giving suggestions. LOL. I know that it's lame of me to have to ask for help like this but the best suggestion will get written.

Thanks. Oh, and by the way I don't own any of these characters. Blah, blah, blah, yak, yak, yak, so on and so forth. :D





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Draco sat, in silence, staring out of the window overlooking the lake. The sky had turned an inky black shade of blue and although the moon and stars were shining brightly, nothing was illuminated. There was no reflection on the lakes rippling surface and the only thing to be seen out on the grounds was the faint flicker of firelight coming from The Game keepers window.

It was serene in an eerie way, silent verging on the edge of being too silent, dark tilting over the chasm of being too dark, peaceful leaning towards un-natural. Things had finally slowed down only to have stopped completely. Voldemort's death had brought great celebration to the wizarding world. Dumbledore had taken joy in giving the news to his students and they, in turn, had taken joy in receiving it.

Most of the Death Eaters had been caught and sent to Azkaban, Lucius not included. Draco found that fact fairly amusing, the fact that the Ministry had overlooked such a major player in Voldemort's schemes made him wonder if the world was actually safe after all.

Of course Lucius had claimed to have been under imperius again, Pleading and begging his fellow Ministry workers to take pity, Which they did and with almost no second thought. Lucius was freed while Pettigrew was sentenced to the Dementors kiss, along with, Nott, Avery, Macnair and Crabbe and Goyle senior. There had been others but Draco was hard pressed to remember their names. Lucius hadn't spoken of them to him and the Ministry seemed to want to keep it as covered as possible.

These things didn't bother him too much though. He had seen this coming for a long time, refusing to join the Death Eaters and making sure he stayed as far away from any action that took place as possible. His father had called it weakness, he called it wisdom. He knew his father was on the losing side and he wasn't going to risk being sent to Azkaban for fighting a losing battle against people who he knew were his betters.

Dumbledore had welcomed Draco with open arms when he heard of his decision but Draco had stepped aside and had chosen to void himself of all 'sides.' He was his own, truth be known, he couldn't take sides. He still had his father at home who would murder him with his bare hands if he found out that his son had betrayed the family name. He was trapped in the middle, caught between himself and himself and the crushing feeling became almost unbearable at times.

On the one hand he was Draco Malfoy the rich, snotty, spoiled, perfect, beautiful creature everybody had always known, that was the part of him that was still loyal to his father and what he stood for. On the other hand he was Draco Malfoy, the empty, lonely, complicated, sad, wanton little boy that he dared not show anyone. That was the part of him that longed to simply break free of his father's tyrannical chain and start again like the past 6 and a half years hadn't happened. So much needed changing and yet he was not prepared to even make a start.

Things had become comfortable even if they weren't meant to be. Being mean and spiteful was his nature; it was the way he was used to being so he stuck with it.

Vincent and Gregory had been very subdued since their parents sentence, even more so than usual and most of the other Slytherins had been very much the same. Infact several of them were now giving Draco strange looks. His usual conversations with Blaise and Pansy had dried up since both their parents had also been accused and found guilty. It was almost like they blamed Draco for his father's freedom. Draco would have loved to see his father go to Azkaban along with the others but his housemates couldn't see that.

He found sleeping had become a lot harder recently, the blackness when he closed his eyes seemed to envelop him entirely and it only added to the crushing force weighing down on his soul. It was his difficulty with sleep that had led him to the Charms classroom on the fourth floor in the north tower. The room had the best view of the grounds, the Quidditch pitch, the lake and the forbidden forest. It was where he did most of his day dreaming and "what if" musings.

'What if I had acted differently from the beginning' 'What if I had been sorted into any house but Slytherin' 'What if I had joined the Death Eaters' 'What if I had been caught' 'What if I jumped from this window'

He had never physically hurt himself; he didn't see the point in marring his perfect skin, giving himself more pain than he already had to live with seemed foolish and fruitless. The teachers would ask questions if they ever saw and then it would wind up with his father, who would question why he was doing this, to which he would make up some pathetic lie and be punished for being weak.

No, He made sure that he planned ahead for everything now, the fact that there was a reaction for every action had finally hit home. He had stopped going out of his way to make people miserable and grouchy with him and had just been happy subtly ruining their lives so they didn't notice.

His pleasure had become somewhat more sadistic as of late and most of his sexual partners had left the room either in tears or close to it. It wasn't something he had planned, but his whole life and way of being had sunk to a lower, darker level and he wasn't sure he totally disliked it. It was still a mystery to him as to what was keeping him sane, if you could describe his new behaviour as sane. He was in control of what he was doing but he wasn't sure that he always knew what was coming. It all seemed so spontaneous now.



He shivered slightly as a cold winter breeze fluttered softly against his bare chest, his hair ruffled slightly and he finally tore his gaze away from the ice like surface of the lake. The floating clock on the far wall had just struck 4:00 am and he knew that some teachers would be up soon. He had never understood their logic for rising so early but he wasn't going to stick around to ask. Flitwick was one of the more understanding professors and would probably let it slide if a good reason was given but Draco wasn't in the mood for lying this morning, nor was he going to tell the truth.

He stretched and pushing himself up from the windowsill he stood up, wrapping his blanket around his cold, goosepimpled body. Sitting in the same position for so long in the cold had made his joints stiff and his back cracked a few times as he twisted his upper body about to try and get all the kinks out. He wasn't sure where the time had gone, as far as he knew he had only had three things on his mind the whole time and he had been sitting there since midnight.

One last yawn and he made his way over to the door and left the room, making sure the coast was clear he padded gently back down to the dungeons to get in a few hours sleep before classes started.







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Ok, that's that. HELP ME PLEASE!!!! *gets down on knees and begs for help.* Any suggestions leave them in a review or send them to fanfic_shipper@yahoo.com . Thanks again.

Love Mikki XXXXXXXX.