Shadow Angel

A/N hey everyone! Anyways this here story is gonna be a little different (I hope) I'm so sick of only having werewolves, veelas, vampires, and elves to choose from so I decided to invent a new one! Btw I LOVE reviews they make me keep writing! (Hint hint nudge nudge) Flames will be used to toast marshmallows. If you have a problem w/ SLASH i.e. male/male relationships, boy/boy love, or gay guys well then don't read it and make use of the back button located at the top left hand corner of your screen. And if I EVER receive a flame about this fic being slash then you will have a very IRATE author to deal with. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

There will be OotP spoilers!

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters I'm just borrowing them from the God JK Rowling and I promise I will return them once I'm finished torturing them. :) I do own the idea of the Shadow Angel but if you want to borrow it just gimme an e-mail b4 u do so I expect it at MySlytherinMind@aol.com

Anyways on with the story!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*Prologue of Sorts*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Long ago a race of people existed called the Shadow Angels. They lived in the high mountains of Greece and preferred to fly during the night. They were said to have the perfect human body, tanned and toned with a certain grace and powerful aura about them. Pure wild magic like no normal mortal being could dream to possess flowed though their veins in unfathomable amounts. They were often portrayed with immense black feathered wings tipped with silver. Long obsidian hair would flow down their backs. Eyes like gems would shine brighter than any precious stone. A Shadow Angel would reach their full potential and gain all of their powers by their 17th birthday but until then they would appear to look just like a regular human.

They belonged to the dark and the shadows hence the name. They were the most beautiful creatures to ever walk the earth, even more so than veelas, they were stronger than werewolves, more agile than elves, and more dangerous than vampires as well. They were revered by mortals and said to be the children of the gods.

Eventually the race of people became nothing more than the stuff of myths and fairy tales. Many have tried to prove their existence but alas none of their attempts prevailed with a single shred of evidence.

But what if I told you that they still exist and are very real?

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Chapter 1: Deliverance

Harry Potter was a scrawny looking boy with messy black hair and stunning emerald green eyes. His sixth year at Hogwarts had passed quickly without much incident. Unlike his previous years at Hogwarts there had been no nasty surprises. But after Sirius's death he became nothing but a shell of his former self. His friends had managed to bring him back somewhat but he would never be the same again, he felt as if a part of his heart had been ripped from him and left a gaping wound in its place. As a result he had become more observant than his previous self and noticed many things he had not before. Malfoy for example looked more troubled and gaunt than usual and his biting remarks didn't hold the same malice they had before. It was strange thought Harry that he even cared that Malfoy was not the same boy he used to know.

It was the day before his birthday (July 30) and Harry was being put to work by his relatives doing hard and tiring chores. He mulled over his past year at Hogwarts as he weeded the garden in the cruel scorching sun. He wondered why lately he had begun to despise the sunlight; he had never really liked it as it was but now he felt so exposed in it he guessed that living in a cupboard for eleven years might have had something to do with it. As he had mastered the art of occlumency he was no longer plagued by as many nightmares as before. He instead began to receive even worse nightmares of a boy in a dungeon being tortured relentlessly. He shivered suddenly feeling chilled. He could not see the boy's face clearly and he could still hear the screams of the boy that managed to chill him to the core. The only thing he could tell was that the boy was pale and had long blonde hair. What scared him even more was that he felt the urge to help the suffering boy, a feeling he had not felt in a long time, not since Sirius died. And why would he want to help a person that only existed in his dreams anyways.

As the sun began to set Harry finally finished his task for the day. 'Now I have to go cook dinner oh goody' thought Harry. He went into the kitchen and began to set the table for three. He was almost finished with dinner and was setting the last things on the table when Dudley walked in. Dudley was now bigger than ever and Harry wondered how he even fit through the door frame 'with difficulty' said a little voice in his head and he had to cover his mouth with his hand to hide his smirk.

Dudley plopped himself down in a chair and it groaned with the amount of weight being put on it. Harry went on with his business ignoring Dudley's snide remarks and finished everything when Vernon and Petunia entered the kitchen.

"Boy," said Vernon his voice dripping with venom, "get out of my sight and I might consider allowing you to have some scraps for dinner."

"Yes Uncle Vernon," said Harry in an emotionless voice as he turned to exit the kitchen and walk up the stairs to the closet his relatives called a 'bedroom'. Once inside he flopped down on the thin mattress and instantly fell asleep from exhaustion.

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"Don't please, Father please stop," cried a sobbing blonde boy as a man whipped him mercilessly. After the boy's father had finished the boy slumped against the wall only to be held up by the chains and manacles around his wrists. He screamed loudly voice cracking as the older man approached him and ran a salt covered finger in a particularly large gash across the boy's back. The boy writhed in pain and whimpered as his father grabbed his tattered trousers pulling them down viciously. The boy tried to scream and his father took him ripping through the muscle but he had screamed his voice raw. Once finished the man withdrew leaving a broken boy on the floor still chained to the wall. "You know Draco this is what you get for refusing the Dark Lord, you could have had it all but instead you disappoint me by throwing it all away," said the boy's father before he walked through the door slamming it shut behind him. Draco sat on the floor and watched the tears slide off his face and onto the floor his shoulders shaking violently. "Harry I wish you could see me now," Draco whispered, "the great Draco Malfoy nothing more than a slave, a toy, a pawn in this sick and twisted game." Draco then slumped into unconsciousness.

~`~`~`~

Harry woke with a start and resisted the urge to scream. Draco Malfoy was being tortured; the dream was just too real to be fake, and he was the boy he had been seeing in his dreams every night. Harry felt horrible, he had to help him, no one deserved that kind of treatment not even Draco Malfoy, especially if it was because he had refused the Dark Mark. Harry looked around and grabbed his alarm clock. The time read 11:59 one minute before his 17th birthday. When the clock beeped 12:00 it clattered to the floor.

Harry Potter had disappeared.

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A/N if you click the little button on the bottom left hand corner of your screen and leave a review I'll update faster! Even if you only ask for another chapter it is still much appreciated!