The Lion and the Serpent

A/N- I like the idea of Harry and Draco, and I wanted to do something a little more serious, so I hope it goes okay. I'm not sure how many chapters it will be yet, though I originally thought it was going to be a one-shot. Hope you like it, all feedback it appreciated!

Warning- Harry/Draco slash, self-harm, swearing.

Chapter One: A Saviour In Need Of Saving

Harry opened his eyes to find that his wand had been thrown to the floor. His arms were sore, and he realised that two Deatheaters were holding them behind him, almost crushing his bones with their firm grip. Harry then looked straight in front of him and found hinself staring into identical pools of red vemon, surounded by the most hideous, snake-like face ever imaginable. Lord Voldemort.

"So Harry, we meet again. Look around you Harry. Your friends and followers are all here, waiting for you to save them. How dissapointed they will be..." Voldemort spoke with triumphant smirk.

Harry looked around, and indeed everyone he knew and loved, and everyone who expected him to be the hero, was standing around him and Voldemort, held back by a magical barrier conjured by Voldemort himself. He saw their faces, scared but hopeful, thinking that Harry would save the day. Harry felt his head hit his chest, hot tears running down his cheeks. He was already dying, he could feel it, his power was draining, quietly ebbing away. The spectators expected a fight, one where Harry would fiercely defeat the Dark Lord and they'd pass the story down through generations. But Harry couldn't help them. He knew he was going to let them down, just like he'd let Sirius down. It was all his fault, and his heart was breaking, his emotions almost suffocating him under a blanket of despair and terrible sadness.

Voldemort knew that Harry was finished. There was no saviour here, just a boy trying to fight a losing battle on his own. He raised his wand at Harry, knowing that Avada Kedavra would kill him instantly, but he didn't want that just yet. He wanted everyone to know how bad Harry was hurting, to let everyone watch the Boy-Who-Lived slowly fall.

"Crucio!" he screamed.

Knives were stabbing every inch of his body, his heart was being ripped out of his chest, his head exploding in the most intense pain. His scream pierced the cold night air like breaking glass, his emerald eyes slowly losing their once intense colour. As the curse was lifted, the Deatheaters holding his arms let him fall the the ground, shaking uncontrollably. As the people watching fell completely silent, Harry saw his close friends, both adults and teens, his teachers, and even some people he did not know crying quietly, unable to stop his pain. Harry raised his head off the ground slightly and whispered something into the noiseless night that everyone heard.

"I'm so sorry. Forgive me."

Then the world went black.

x x x x x x x x x x

Harry awoke with a start, sweating and pale, breathing heavily. He tried quietly to catch his breath, not wanting to wake the other boys in his dorm, especially Ron. He knew Ron would be confused and worried about Harry, and he didn't want that. Harry took off his glasses which he'd fallen asleep in and rubbed his eyes, feeling his scar burning dully on his forehead. Knowing that he wouldn't likely be able to fall back asleep, he decided to take a walk down to the Prefects bathroom to think - not many people were allowed in there, and no one would be there this late at night. He swapped his silky emerald pajama shirt for a tight fitting, black t-shirt, leaving on his matching emerald pajama bottoms. He grabbed his invisibility cloak from his trunk, along with the Mauraders map, his wand, and the tiny switchblade Sirius had given him, repaired good as new by Hermione.

Under the cloak, Harry walked swiftly and silently out the portrait hole towards the Prefects bathroom, thinking intensly about his dream. It was his worst fear put into realization - maybe Harry couldn't be the hero everyone expected. He was afraid to think of what would happen if he let everybody down, tricked by Voldemort again... Visions of his trip to the Department of Mysteries filled his mind, and of course, images of Sirius. His godfather, willing to risk everything to come and save Harry, when it had been all his fault in the first place. If he'd just listened to everyone, and learned Occlumency like he was supposed to, Sirius would still be alive... the closest thing he'd ever had to a parent had died at his expense.

When Harry reached the bathroom, said the password and entered, he walked over to the mirror, slipped off the cloak and saw that his cheeks were stained with tears. He ran his hands through his messy black hair, absent mindedly reaching for the switchblade in his pocket. He set down the cloak, map, and his wand, holding only the sharp blade in his right hand. He then slowly drew it to his left wrist, puncturing the skin, creating a gash across it. He watched drops of blood pooling around the cut, almost sickly happy that he could feel anything, since everything had felt so numb to him since Sirius had died. He brought the blade to his wrist again, slashing his own flesh twice more, feeling the pain and watching blood now dripping down his wrist and into the sink.

Harry dropped the switchblade on the edge of the sink and sank down to the ground, knees against his chest, his breath coming out more ragged then usual. He felt a few more tears run down his cheeks and tried to push them back. Deep down, he knew it wasn't entirely his fault that Sirius was dead, but on the surface, he felt that he deserved this pain. Wanting desperatly to disolve into the world of unconsiousness, Harry closed his eyes, his body leaning weakly against the wall.

The swing of a door and the sound of footsteps accross the tiled floor sharply snapped Harry back to reality. He looked up into the sneering face of Draco Malfoy, clearly pleased to see Harry so upset, and he instinctivly reached out to grab the invisibility cloak, forgetting that he'd left it near the sink. That's when Draco saw that Harry was bleeding.

Draco looked from Harry's wrist, to the blood on the floor, then over to the sink where the switchblade lay, also covered in blood. "What hap..." he started, but then realised too late that Harry had done this to himself. Draco stood still and silent for a moment, unsure of what to do, while Harry waited with bated breath for the taunts to come.

They didn't.

Draco slowly walked over to where Harry was sitting and knelt down beside him. He gently reached for Harry's arm, pulling it closer to him and examining Harry's wrist. His silver eyes then travelled up Harry's tear-stained face, locking onto emerald ones. All thoughts of teasing Harry had left his mind, and he sincerely wanted to help. For once in his life, he wanted to do something right.

A/N- So, there you have it, chapter one. I was going to go on, but I think I'll leave the rest for chapter two. I'm not sure how quickly I want to get into a Harry/Draco relationship- tell me what you think. Please review, I like to know what you think before I keep going, constuctive critisim and any compliments/suggestions are totally welcome. Thanks!