A/N: Thought I would do a different D/H story, although I don't doubt it has been done before. Review, please, even if it is just to criticise me. The HP universe and characters belong to J.K. Rowling and I don't know whom else, I'm just borrowing them to play, I'll put them away when I'm done.

This is slash, male/male relationships, if you don't like this sort of things click the "Back" button and take your narrow mind somewhere else.

Embracing darkness, by Dark Fairy

Chapter I

When you feel all alone, and the world has turned its back on you Give me a moment, please, to tame your wild, wild heart. (Savage Garden, Crush and Burn)

Harry sat on the windowsill, looking out at the grounds of Hogwarts, peaceful under a blanket of snow. It was the only peaceful thing Harry had seen since the end of his fifth year, more that a year before, but he knew that even the white ground held traps and curses to prevent Death Eaters from attacking the school.

Voldemort's power had increased more quickly than anyone could have expected and, at the beginning of Harry's seventh and final year at Hogwarts, the school was one of the last places that held their own against the Dark tide. But not even Hogwarts was the same: many of the students had left, either to join the Dark side (and that included several Ravenclaws and a few Gryffindors) or to abandon the magical world completely. Hermione herself had left Hogwarts and transferred to a Muggle school in Manchester, from where she would be following a Dentistry career. Ron was still in Hogwarts but Percy's death, Ginny's betrayal and Mr. And Mrs. Weasley's dangerous situation had transformed him into a silent, gloomy young man, only smiling when he received the monthly owl from his parents.

And Harry himself had changed notoriously. He had had training in Advanced DADA in the summer between his fourth and fifth year, but Dumbledore had decided that it was unfair to make him battle alongside with the Order of the Phoenix and the remaining loyal wizards and witches, and so The Boy Who Lived had resigned himself to reside at Hogwarts all year round, feeling like an useless package. He was now seventeen, not too tall for his age, with a slim body hardened by indoor sports, because it was to dangerous to go out into the Quidditch field, and the same green eyes, now devoid of glasses. But the main change was on the inside: all those nights of waiting until a teacher (sometimes McGonagall with tear streaked cheeks, or Snape, still bleeding from multiple injuries) came to tell him that that night's action had finished, or the times when he saw Dumbledore, looking older than ever without the twinkling of his eyes, or the common occurrence of having his scar hurting, night or day, all that had left deep imprints on Harry's soul.

And all those thoughts surfaced now, while he watched the snowy ground on the first day of his seventh year at Hogwarts (weather disturbances had been usual since Voldemort had regained power). A whimper from Neville's bed brought him back to reality for a moment, only to let his mind wonder round the Gryffindor Tower. Harry, Ron, Neville and Parvati were the only Gryffindors left in seventh year and the rest of the years hadn't done better. The corridors looked deserted and the teachers gave their lessons to all four houses at once, to make less noticeable the absences. Absences. the most evident of them was the absence of hope; not even the brave Gryffindors hoped for a favourable outcome to the war.

Why were they fighting, then? Harry had asked himself that same question since it was obvious the Dark side would win. Why did they have to sacrifice so many innocent lives, why did they have to prolong their suffering? It was much easier to give up, to kill themselves, to deprive Voldemort of the pleasure of playing with them. Harry had felt ashamed of those thoughts at the beginning; he had told himself that there was always hope, that his parents had died to save him, that he couldn't repay them with cowardice, but even the memory of his parents' death had begun to fade and dark thoughts began to take shape.

A small light, maybe a lost fairy, shone briefly over the snow and brought a smile to Harry's lips. His life as well, amongst all the death and fear and doubts, had a small light, not of hope, but of happiness. A fairy of silvery blond hair, porcelain skin and stormy eyes, one of the two remaining Slytherin seventh years, a boy that held much darkness under his sweet appearance. Draco Malfoy's obvious sympathy with the Dark side hadn't stopped Harry's heart from missing a beat every time he saw him, and Harry accepted that with the same resignation that he accepted his impending defeat. When the Daily Prophet brought news of yet another attack, Harry would look over to the Slytherin table and peace would flood back into his heart; when Professor McGonagall wiped away a tear looking at the empty places, Harry would look at a certain (occupied) place and he would be contented; when Dumbledore stopped half-way through a sentence in his DADA lessons and sighed heavily, Harry would fill those silences with imagined whispers of "Harry, I love you" from a velvet voice and he would forget his surroundings.

Love, even unrequited, has the effect of numbing a person's heart to other people's sorrows, and Ron had learnt that the hard way, finding Harry in a world of his own when the red-head voiced his pain and despair; Ron had begun to keep to himself and Harry had never noticed he had driven his friend away until it was too late to bring him back. And so Harry sat on the windowsill of his dorm, wrapped in his cloak, knowing that not even Hedwig would listen to him.

At the same time, in the Slytherin boys' dorm, Draco Malfoy slept with a slight smile etched on his face. He wasn't dreaming, but he didn't have to dream to be happy. His was the Royal family of the Dark side and Voldemort, knowing he wouldn't reach immortality, had appointed Lucius Malfoy as his successor, while young Draco had been allowed to continue his studies at Hogwarts before starting his training as a commander of Death Eaters. The world was at the blonde's feet and he would enjoy stepping on it.

The following morning timetables were handed out to the breakfasting students. No groans or outraged protests were heard around the table (house tables had been replaced by one long one, due to the small amount of pupils left) and everyone carried on eating in silence, except from Draco and Blaise Zabini, who shared a joke in whispers. The blond boy laughed and Harry was amazed at the elegance of his gestures and at the vitality of the laugh, an exercise the Gryffindor hadn't practiced in months. Beauty and evil seemed to go hand in hand, pondered Harry as he made his lonely way to the Charms classroom. Draco and the rest of his family were handsome beyond measure and Voldemort himself had been a man of striking presence before several curses and immortality spells had damaged his body; Snape, another prominent Death Eater, was very attractive, even with his greasy hair, and Ginny had grown into a gorgeous girl before joining the Dark Lord, more out of love than out of ambition. Harry looked at his reflection on a suit of armour as he passed: he wasn't bad looking and with a bit of care he would look better than Snape, but.what was he thinking?! Harry shook his head in dismay, taking his usual place in the classroom. He had accepted thoughts of defeat, but treason was altogether different.

He remembered the night when Professor McGonagall had announced in the Gryffindor common room that Ginny wouldn't be coming back. The revulsion seen in every face, mixed with pain in Ron's pale visage, the revulsion he himself had felt had been accompanied by a twinge of curiosity he had hid carefully. Why had Ginny left? Was her love for Voldemort so strong it could conquer the barriers of pride, of fear, of hate? Amor vincit omnia. The only thing she had left to Harry was a strip of parchment with those words written in a fancy script, and Harry still wondered why she had chosen him to receive her message. Now he thought he began to understand. And then he heard a crystalline voice behind him.

'Trying to get points by arriving early, Potter?' Draco's voice had the effect of making his thoughts coalesce into a whirlwind of emotions; he tried to keep his voice steady as he answered without turning back.

'Mind your own business, Malfoy' Still, Draco's attention felt like heaven, even if the Slytherin was only trying to annoy him. Harry wished he could have just turned round and kissed those perfect lips into silence, but he knew his limitations and, most importantly, he knew Draco would never love him back.

From his seat, Draco looked thoughtfully at Harry, ignoring Professor Flitwick's instructions. Poor fool, thought the blond Slytherin, you should have shaken my hand on that train, so long ago. Things would have been different; for a start, Voldemort would have come back on their first year, with the help of the Philosopher's Stone, and he would be immortally ruling the world. That wasn't good for Lucius Malfoy's son, and a malicious smile appeared in his lips.

'What is it?' asked Blaise, coming back with their marked essays.

'I was just thinking about the consequences of our actions' mused Draco 'A simple act might change our whole lives' Saying this, his eyes encountered Harry's and the Slytherin gave him a wink that sent the Gryffindor's heart into a series of somersaults.

Harry had often wondered what would have happened if he had taken Draco's hand on the Hogwarts Express, and the result had always been negative, Draco's possible friendship not making up for Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore and a clean conscience. But lately, the equation didn't work out that easily, and, alarmingly enough, there were a couple of times when Harry thought that a few months of Draco paid for a lifetime of evil and misery. And yet, there was enough misery in his life now to rival with what he felt living with the Dursleys or what he would feel under Voldemort's reign, but he didn't have Draco.no, definitely, Harry's life wasn't worth the trouble.

'Draco! Oh, Merlin's beard, wake up!' Blaise elbowed Draco and he snapped out of his reverie to find himself in the library, facing a pile of books he was supposed to be researching 'What's wrong with you, man?'

'I've got a plan' answered the blond Slytherin, pushing his chair back.

'Unless your plan involves McGonagall saying she doesn't need our essay, I suggest you sit down and start working' replied Blaise 'You can implement your plan after we've done our homework' Muttering mutinously under his breath, Draco complied and started writing on the properties of Animagus, while thinking of Harry's depressed air and the looks the Gryffindor stole to him, Draco Malfoy, when he thought no-one was looking. A satisfied smirk crept to his lips while he worked, and Blaise augured nothing good to whomever that smile was dedicated to.



'So, remind me why we're doing this?' asked Blaise for the millionth time when they walked to the Great Hall to have dinner.

'Ambition, power, money, influence, altruism. choose the one that suits you best' replied Draco straightening his robes and giving a feline look to Harry, who was sitting on his own at the far end of the table. To say that the Gryffindor was surprised when both Slytherins sat next to him would be a blatant understatement. 'So, what's for dinner, Potter?'

'Roast pheasant' replied Harry after a moment's hesitation. Is this some plan to make fun of me afterwards? Is he really talking to me? Could I ask for more?

'You're not very talkative, are you?' asked Draco with a smile, after five minutes of tense silence.

'Why should I talk to you?' snapped Harry, regretting his words as soon as they left his mouth.

'Well, we've come to have dinner with you and you haven't taken your eyes off your plate' Draco sounded genuinely offended.

'You've come to have dinner with me?!' Harry couldn't believe his ears. Had he passed out or was he in an amazingly beautiful dream? 'Why would you do that?'

'You underestimate yourself, Potter. Why wouldn't we want to dine with you?'

'Apart from the fact that you hate me?' suggested Harry, albeit with fading conviction.

'I've never hated you' replied Draco, staring into Harry's eyes with his own grey ones, full of sincere surprise 'We are in opposing sides, but that doesn't imply hate.' After a pause, the Slytherin added 'And, after all, it was you who refused my friendship in the first place'

'I remember' said Harry, turning back to his food to hide the blush covering his face and neck.

'It was foolish of you' continued Draco in a low tone 'Look where it brought you. Alone, friendless, endangered, afraid. It was a foolish thing to do'

'Leave him' interrupted Blaise, following the script they had rehearsed before 'It was his decision, he had every right to turn your hand down. Let's forget that and have a proper dinner for once'

And so they did. Harry didn't remember enjoying dinner so much since his fourth year, with the added bonus that it was Draco who punctuated each joke with a laugh and Blaise's sharp tongue who ridiculed each and everyone sitting around them. Once he was back in the Gryffindor common room, sitting in his armchair by the fire, Harry smiled to himself recalling some of the things said; the room was dark and the few people in it talked in whispers and kept grave faces, and Harry's smile was felt like an insult by all of them. Feeling keenly the contrast between the careless joy he had felt at dinner and the mourning atmosphere of his common room, the Boy Who Lived swung the portrait of The Fat Lady open and decided to roam around the castle. He didn't want to forget those too brief minutes of happiness, the sound of Draco's laughter or the feel of Draco's hand on his shoulder as he got up to leave. He was so immersed in his thought that he walked into someone.

'Watch it!' exclaimed an angry voice from the boy on the ground 'Oh, Potter, it's you'

'Sorry, Zabini' said Harry, helping Blaise up and secretly regretting it wasn't Draco 'I was distracted'

'So I noticed' remarked the Slytherin dryly, brushing the dust from his robes 'Why aren't you in your common room, anyway? It's bloody freezing out here' Harry racked his brains for an explanation that didn't sound too foolish, but Blaise saved him the work 'Let me guess: they were being the self-righteous mourning jerks they usually are. Can't those people accept a smile?!' Zabini took Harry's silence as the acceptance it really was and put into practice the part of the plan he had been waiting for while pacing a corridor near to Gryffindor Tower for over an hour 'Do you want to come to our common room? It's nearly empty and you won't have to freeze to death out here.Unless you find it degrading to talk to us'

'Not at all. Let's go' said Harry, maybe a little hastily. He followed Blaise to the dungeons, remembering with no small amount of nostalgia when he and Ron, with the help of the Polyjuice Potion, had made the same way following Draco. He was about to sigh when he found himself in the middle of the Slytherin common room and all his alarms set off at once. What the Hell am I doing here? It could be a trap, they could be trying to kill me or kidnap me! How did they talk me into this?

'Look what I found' Blaise was saying to a figure curled on a sofa.

'Potter!' said Draco, flashing him a smile that melted Harry's suspicions 'Welcome to the Slytherin side of town. You must be the first Gryffindor to do so, since.since the Founders' time, I suppose'

'Thanks' muttered Harry, feeling everyone's eyes trained on him. He gratefully accepted the seat Draco was offering him, right in front of his sofa, and he looked curiously around him. The room hadn't changed much since his clandestine visit a few years back; it still had a low ceiling and green lamps and a massive stone fireplace, but there were much fewer students sitting on the carved chairs. 'It's a nice place you've got here' he said, and he meant it. Even though there were less than twenty students, laughter often rang here and there and games of chess and Exploding Snap were being played by the younger ones.

'It is, isn't it?' confirmed Malfoy settling back into the sofa 'I think it's more welcoming than Ravenclaw's or Hufflepuff's. I don't know about Gryffindor.'

'Here is better' assented Harry, trying to get used to the sound of laughter again 'I haven't heard laughter since.' he stopped, not finding an appropriate phrase

'I know' interrupted Blaise, understandingly. 'It must be hard on you'

And suddenly, Harry found himself spilling his secrets (most of them, anyway) to the couple of Slytherins, who did nothing to interrupt the torrent of words. It felt as if a dam had burst, and the Gryffindor could perceive the weight lifting from him as he voiced his feeling of loneliness, of abandonment, of hopelessness. He was aware he was talking to Slytherins, to supporters of Voldemort, to people who would sell his secrets even before he finished talking, but he couldn't seem to stop once the first words had been uttered. The feeling of relief as he communicated to human beings what he had only said to his pillow was enormous and it more than paid for the nagging feeling of danger. When he was done, a stunned silence settled amongst them.

'Hey' said Draco quietly after a minute 'If I had known you felt like that, I would have talked to you much sooner' Blaise gave him an incredulous look, but Malfoy kept his eyes on Harry's flushed face. 'You're welcome to come here anytime, whether you want to talk or just sit here and hear actual people'

'Thanks' muttered Harry, steeling himself for the sarcastic comment he was still expecting.

'Would you like a cup of tea?' asked Blaise in an equally soft tone, but not before Malfoy kicked him under his robes. Harry assented and Blaise left the room, shooting a malicious glance to the two boys sitting by the fire.

'Why are you doing this?' asked Harry timidly, while his emerald eyes demanded a sincere response. Draco looked slightly embarrassed and he dropped his voice until it was scarcely a murmur.

'You've been looking really depressed and miserable, you know? As I told you, I've never hated you and it seemed to me like.' The Slytherin stopped and gave a quick glance to Harry, who was surprised to see the other boy look away with a faint blush. 'I thought maybe you wouldn't turn my hand down today'

'But I can't..you know..' Harry stammered anxiously, torn between happiness and the knowledge that he would have to turn that offer down again.

'I'm not asking you to change sides' lied Draco in his most convincing tone 'I'm just offering you my friendship. You've said it yourself, you're lonely, you have no-one to turn to..I just want you to know I'm here' With these words, Draco, who had been leaning forward, took hold of Harry's hand, seizing it between his own hands.

Harry closed his eyes. The sensations surging through him were too much to resist, even a saint would yield to such a wondrous temptation, he thought, while green and silver fireworks exploded behind his closed eyelids. If Harry hadn't been so busy in his personal heaven, he might have seen Malfoy's peculiar smile, a mixture of satisfaction, malevolence and triumph. It was gone when Harry opened his eyes and was greeted by a pair of slate-grey eyes, which reflected nothing but concern and warmth.

'Thank you' whispered Harry, ignoring his flaming visage. Draco gave a final squeeze at the Gryffindor's hand and watched him as he left the common room, not even acknowledging Blaise, who entered with a cup of tea.

'So, did it work?' asked the dark haired Slytherin to Draco.

'I daresay it did' replied Malfoy, and there was certain sadness in his voice. Blaise didn't grasp that, though, and he continued his questioning.

'Do we go to your father now?'

'Don't be stupid!' snapped Draco with much more alacrity than he would use normally. Registering his mistake, he rectified quickly 'We need much more before we bother my father with this' Blaise assented and left to finish his Potions homework, while Draco stayed in his place, staring at the now vacant armchair in front of him and wondering why he felt a void in his chest.

------ A/N: So, tell me what you think! Would you prefer EvilHarry or ConfusedHarry? Do you like it? Shall I continue? Just hit the "Review" button.