Title: Changing Twilight
Author: severnaya
Rated: M
Genre: Angst/Drama
Summary:Facing Voldemort several times without wand or any other tool as defence leaves Harry in a world of pain. Thoughts of suicide and new confidants lead him to alternate ways. How will he cope with his misery and the changes in his life?
Pairing: Will eventually be Harry/Draco, so slash but more hints than anything else and no explicit scenes. Read to know more.
Warnings: Torture, despair, suicide

A/N: Hello everybody and welcome to my first fanfiction. I finally dared to publish one too^^. I'm completely new here at FFN so please forgive me if I make any mistakes. I've rated the story M because I wasn't sure if later content would still be ok with a lower rating… Well, English also isn't my mother tongue. If you find any mistakes please tell me so I can fix them.

Ah yes, I don't own Harry Potter etc. They all belong to JK Rowling, Warnerbros. and so on.

Enough with this, here's the story:

CHANGING TWILIGHT
by severnaya

Chapter 1: Visits

You'd better hope and pray that you make it safe back to your own world.
You'd better hope and pray that you wake one day in your own world.
'Cause when you sleep at night they don't hear your cries back in your own world.
Only time will tell if you can break the spell back in your world.
(Shakespeare's Sisters – Stay)

Since the day Voldemort had returned, since that cursed day in the old cemetery where he used Harry's blood to renew his body, the life of the Boy Who Lived had changed. Sure, his scar had hurt before, too, but it had been only pain, nothing more than a bad headache. Afterwards the visions had come, some true, some false, as Harry began to realize painfully. Nevertheless, that was what they were: visions, nothing more than bad dreams. Harry had always thought it couldn't get worse.

He and everyone else were wrong.

It all started some weeks ago during summer break. Once again, Harry had gone back to the Dursleys, silently and lonely mourning the loss of his godfather. He couldn't help but feel deserted. At first, Harry had thought it was a dream like the ones before, but he was mistaken.

After working all day for the Dursleys, Harry finally lay down on his bed, thankful that he could rest a few hours before the next day started again. Soon, he fell asleep. He was in the midst of a dense fog; no sound could be heard. Harry looked around, but he couldn't spot anything other than the grey-blue wafts of mist. Not knowing what to do, he just sat down, pretending that it was a normal dream, albeit a boring one. It took some moments until he realized that the fog had cleared. A huge room, more like a hall, came into view. The windowless walls, as well as the floor, consisted of dark silver-grey stones. At one end was a huge oak door, at the other stood a podium with a single throne-like chair. Harry couldn't see anything else in the room. What a boring dream, he thought. He was sure this was a dream - what else could it be? Curious as he was, Harry went over to the door to explore the place a little more. The door didn't have a handle, so he pushed it but with no result. Harry pushed harder, using his whole body, but the door wouldn't move even a tiny bit. Frustrated, Harry let go. What's the sense in dreaming when you just sit in a boring room? Annoyed, he sank down beside the door, his back against the cold stone wall. Perhaps he would fall asleep. Can you fall asleep in your own dream?

He didn't know how long he had sat there when he started to hear voices from outside. Seconds later, the door was pushed open and several people in dark robes with hoods hurried inside. Harry, halfway hidden behind the open door, just sat there, staring at the people. This really can't be real, he thought. It's just a bad joke. Why the hell am I dreaming about Death Eaters? Then, an idea hit him: could this be a new vision? But then, why all this prelude? And where was Voldemort? If this was a vision, dear Snakeface had to be here. Deciding not to push his luck, Harry stood up soundlessly. The Death Eaters seemed preoccupied with themselves; no one even glanced in his direction. Perhaps he could sneak through the door without being noticed.

His eyes fixed on the current Death Eaters in the room, he slowly stood up. One hand on the door behind him, he stepped around it and backed out of the room silently. He had walked barely one metre when a voice behind him made him freeze.

"Who do we have here? A guest, it seems."

Damn, Harry cursed himself mentally, why wasn't I watchingthe corridor before? He was so stupid!

Slowly, he turned around, all the time fidgeting for his wand. Only a few metres away stood no other than Lucius Malfoy in all his glory, including the trademark Malfoy I-am-better-and-superior-to-you sneer.

Harry's pulse quickened. Where the hell was his wand? He quickly looked down at his side and paused.

And why was he wearing his pyjamas?

"Nice dress," came Malfoy's mocking voice at that very moment.

Slowly, Harry began to panic. He was in the middle of a Death Eater horde, without his wand, in his pyjamas no less. This is a dream, isn't it? He thought as he tried to calm himself down. At least, kind of. So there's no problem, right? In a dream you can't die. Well, perhaps I'll die, but then I'll wake up in my bed and everything will be all right. Nevertheless, he couldn't help but step back when Malfoy moved forward.

"Our Master will be delighted when he meets you, Potter," Malfoy said maliciously.

Before Harry knew what was happening, Malfoy had grabbed his arms, twisting them painfully behind his back. Harry had to grit his teeth to avoid making a sound. Malfoy then drove him forward into the hall. Soon, the other Death Eaters saw them and murmurs began to fill the room.

The murmurs quieted instantly when another cloaked figure entered the room. All but Malfoy, who still had a tight hold on Harry, knelt down. Harry felt his scar starting to burn even before he could see the person clearly.

This dream really sucks, he thought.

Lord Voldemort, on the contrary, seemed to be more than pleased about the unexpected visitor, as he put it. Harry was sure that the other still was quite angry about how the battle at the ministry ended, and soon he too could feel it.

How can a dream hurt so badly? he thought as another Crucio hit him. Although Malfoy had released him, his body contorted painfully at his enemies' feet, which left him helpless on the floor with no way to escape.

He was starting to believe this wasn't a normal dream when a strange feeling took hold of him, and in front of the group of Death Eaters' eyes, Harry began to disappear into thin air.

All around Harry fog was building once again, hiding the room with Voldemort from his view. Through the fog, he could hear the Dark Lord's frustrated scream echoing from somewhere in nowhere.

Harry woke in his bed where he fell asleep previously. His body ached but he couldn't find any wounds, not even a little scratch. That definitely wasn't a normal dream.

The next day was hell as well.

That was the first "private meeting" between Harry and Voldemort, and unfortunately not the last. Every so often, in his dreams, he would be travelling to the exact same room. Sometimes he was lucky and just spent time there alone, but most of the time someone was already there.

When Voldemort had realised Harry would come and go unpredictably, he seemed to have advised his Death Eaters to stand guard, and every time Harry woke up in the blasted room, someone was there, happily fulfilling the order of his master; namely, torture Harry Potter.

***************

When school started on September the first, Harry wasn't sure if he should be glad or not to go back to Hogwarts. On the one hand, he couldn't wait for the moment to come to leave the Dursleys; on the other hand, at school it would be a lot more complicated to hide this new development. He wasn't sure why, but he despised the idea of telling someone about his dreams right now.

When he met his friends on platform 9¾ at King's Cross, he greeted them with an honest smile, but deep inside, he wasn't as happy as he should be. However, for the moment he could forget his sad feelings almost completely.

During the journey, though, he soon began to stare out the window, thoughts of Sirius and Voldemort on his mind. He sincerely grieved for his godfather and couldn't stop blaming himself, but this new predicament almost overwhelmed him.

His friends, with whom he shared a compartment as usual, looked at him with concerned expressions on their faces.

Every now and then Hermione threw glances at her friend over the edge of her book. Harry looked tired, with circles under his eyes, which were less bright than they normally were. He always had had moments where he just sat there, watching his friends without participating in their conversations, but the new grief was plainly visible. Hermione wished she could do something to distract Harry from Sirius's death; but neither had she known enough about the man nor could she imagine how Harry felt. Sirius was far more than just a godfather for Harry. They both had dreamt about a future together, living at Grimmauld Place like the family they both wished for. Now these dreams had been destroyed violently. The fight against Voldemort had cost Harry another family and another home.

Hermione sighed. Perhaps classes would help Harry; they sure had a lot to learn this year.

They arrived at Hogwarts without Harry saying a word. However, during the Welcoming Feast, he listened attentively to the Sorting and Dumbledore's speech. Eventually, he smiled at some of the jokes and stories the other Gryffindors told about their holidays and, for the time being, Hermione pushed her concerned thoughts to the back of her mind.

***************

The time passed quickly and soon the first three weeks of classes were over. Despite his attempt to act as normal as possible, there was something Harry hid deliberately from his friends.

Every night, Harry secretly cast a silencing charm around his bed, he wouldn't take the chances of waking the others and letting them see everything, whatever there was to see. He had to admit, he didn't know how he looked like when "visiting" Voldemort, he didn't even know if he really made any noise, the Dursleys never complained, but he truly could live without his classmates asking questions.

He didn't know when he had become like this either. Not long ago, he would have told his friends almost everything, but things changed.

However, Harry could only hold back the sound not the view.

It was pitch-black in the dormitory when Ron woke. Dark clouds obscured the small crescent of the moon. It must have been about two or three in the morning. He wasn't sure why he had awoken, nor could he remember the dream he just had. It was quiet in the room. Turning to his other side, Ron was just about going back to sleep, when his view fell onto his best friend.

Harry twisted around in his bed, hands clutched firmly in his sheets and eyes tightly shut. His mouth was slightly open as if he couldn't breathe properly. Without warning, his body stiffened, raising his torso hardly noticeably. His mouth opened wider for a silent scream. Then his limp body fell back on the cushions, but seconds later it got rigid again and Harry's eyes flew open. Panting heavily, he turned to his side. He stared at the floor while trying to compose himself.

Some breaths later, Harry got the feeling that he was being watched. He looked up and his eyes met the concerned ones of the boy in the bed beside him. Feeling caught, he dropped the silencing charm but was unsure what to do next. Luckily, Ron ended the silent stare.

"You're okay, mate?" he whispered, concern clearly swinging in his voice.

"Yeah," Harry whispered back weakly, looking everywhere but at Ron, "just a nightmare."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Harry refused, shaking his head.

"You're sure?"

Harry nodded and with a small smile he added, "Go back to sleep, Ron. I'm okay. It was just a bad dream."

"No You-Know-Who or anything like that?" Ron tried to sound as if he was joking, but failed miserably.

"No, I'm fine, really," Harry assured his best friend.

"'Kay, if you say so," the redhead answered, sounding anything but convinced as he rolled back over his bed.

Minutes later, Harry could hear the steady, rhythmic breath of sleep coming from the bed; and soon it turned into soft snoring. Sighing, he lay down again. His time in the fog at the beginning of the dream, or whatever it was, was shorter than the times before. It had taken only minutes to get into Voldemort's chamber. There was no way he would go back to sleep now.

***************

To Harry's luck, Ron didn't question him the next day but left him alone. Harry didn't speak to anyone at all; he just tried to get through his classes despite his aching body.

After Harry had left them alone to have an early night, Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Neville were sitting together in the common room.

"Harry is far quieter than before, don't you think?" Ginny asked the others.

"Kind of secluded," Hermione added.

"Melancholy," Neville offered quietly.

Ron struggled with himself whether or not he should tell his friends about Harry's nightly problems, but his concern won over his confidentiality as Harry's best friend. Anyway, the others were Harry's friends too, and perhaps together they could help. In the past five years, they'd had to solve far bigger problems, and sticking together always had worked out in the end.

"He has nightmares," Ron let his friends and sister in. "I saw him last night. He said he was fine, though."

"I wish we could do something to distract him from Sirius's death," Hermione said sadly.

"They were quite close, weren't they?" Neville asked tentatively. The other three nodded. No one seemed to know what to say.

***************

TBC

It's done! My first chapter ever! I know, it isn't that long; however, I hope you liked it. Please review!

Sev

A/N: The song I quoted at the beginning of this chapter was also covered by the band Cradle of Filth some time ago. As I discovered this only when looking for the right lyrics of the Shakespear's Sisters' song, I will only reference them directly, but I thought you might be interested.