It's been a while since I've written anything really and I've decided to start a new fanfic and put the others on hold, for the time
being at least. I won't tell you much about the story yet, but please, do read and review.

Main Characters: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley, Ron Weasley

Year at Hogwarts: End of 6th, right before summer begins

Ages: All 17 except Ginny and Harry who are 16 (I'm speculating, but since Harry's birthday isn't until July 31st, he is still 16)

Spoilers: Books 1-5 and especially book 5 in this chapter

Genre: Adventure/Mystery/Romance

Rating: PG-13 for now, may increase in later chapters

Disclaimer: I hereby denounce any claims to the Harry Potter franchise or any related materials. Most everything I use comes from my own mind and the quotes or ideas I get elsewhere will be cited when appropriate.

Into the Light

Chapter One : Desperate Measures

On a dark and gloomy night, during the first week of summer before 7th year, Draco watched his world fall to pieces at his feet.
Dressed in a pair of khaki trouser pants and a charcoal grey sweater, Draco looked on with apathy as everything he had everowned was sold for auction in the courtyard of his manor. In a corner, which happened to be Draco's favorite rose garden(every now and then he would bewitch it to bloom in different colors), all of the Malfoy's dark arts spell books and icons (some dating back to over 1000 B.C.) were burned to debris in a large bonfire. In the days following, his entire Manor, where he and hundreds of Malfoy's before him had spent their lives, would be auctioned off to a local aristocrat, as if it was nothing but property. After paying a hefty sum to the government, he was able to keep few possessions, the most important being a beautiful emerald-bejeweled silver sword that had, in the time before, belonged to Salazaar Slytherin. After the Aurors tested it for dark magic and found nothing they let him keep it, provided he give them 500 galleons each for secrecy. Draco had used the sword for fencing practice, and after he found out that Salazaar had fenced Godric Gryffindor himself with it on occasion, he couldn't bear to let it go. He was also able to keep his broomstick, his wand, some clothing, about four or five books he enjoyed reading, and a small photo album. It wasn't much, and one wouldn't think Draco Malfoy would want a photo album, but it was all he had, and he would have to make do.

His father hadn't gotten away so easily. He was given the Dementor's Kiss, and landed in Azkaban.

He kept staring and reflected, hoping that everything he had done to lead him here would be worth it in the end.

One week earlier…

Draco Malfoy sat at the head of the Slytherin table, picking morosely at his last meal of sixth year at Hogwarts. He looked around at his fellow peers, hardly being able to believe how much they'd all grown. He remembered eyeing the Slytherin table as the Sorting Hat first touched his head, knowing that someday he would have a place there. He smirked slightly and looked up at the enchanted ceiling. With the exception of a few clouds, the night was clear, and the stars were twinkling. Perhaps he would pay a visit to the Astronomy Tower later.

Tonight was the Leaving Feast, tomorrow he would be returning home to the Manor, and tomorrow night, well… he didn't want to think about it.

He cocked his head to the side and stared across at Gryffindor table, quickly becoming lost in thought as his gaze was transfixed at the youngest Weasley. She was looking right at Finnegan but her mind was elsewhere as he droned on about something that didn't interest her in the slightest. She nodded at him a few more times, and played with her copper hair which was braided neatly in two plates. He couldn't quite remember her name. Julie? No, that was wrong… She broke away from Seamus and looked repulsed as she noticed him staring at her; the look on her face was contorted; her gaze as bitter as a grapefruit. He remembered now. Ginny, that's right. Virginia? Or was it –

"DRACO! What on earth are you staring at?" Pansy inquired, looking at him quizzically and taking a bite of his abandoned blueberry scone.

"Nothing," Draco replied, shaking his head and snapping out of his reverie. He absentmindedly stabbed his fork into his steak and kidney pie as he mentally slapped himself for even spending a moment wondering about a Weasley. "I'm just tired, that's all."

Pansy looked dubiously at him, about to say something but all further questioning was cut off as Dumbledore began to move to face the students in the Great Hall. At that moment, and probably for the first time in his life, Draco was relieved to see Dumbledore preparing himself to speak.

"As we come to the end of another fantastic year, I would like to take a moment of your time before we begin our meal. As I'm sure you all know, Lord Voldemort-" there were several whispers going around the hall, as after everything some students still couldn't bear to hear the name.

"Lord Voldemort," Dumbledore continued, "has returned, and until recently has been biding his time, most definitely preparing for a large attack. Over the past few days, as I'm sure some of you have read in the Daily Prophet, several Muggle and wizarding families who were not of pure ancestry have been murdered. I would like to take a moment of silence and quiet reflection for them."

Draco scoffed, seemingly unaffected and looked around the Great Hall. Several of the Slytherins were sniggering, but Dumbledore pretended not to notice. Every other table had their head bowed, and he glanced again at the Gryffindors. All of them were looking grave, Granger had her head on Weasley's shoulder, and he could have sworn that he saw a tear running down her cheek.

Several moments passed before Dumbledore spoke again.

"In the light of this recent tragedy, I want all of you to question what your role in the wizarding world will be. As much as I'd like to assume you'd all grasp the light over darkness, I cannot be naïve enough to pretend that there are many of us here who would not. Tonight, I leave you with that thought, and bid goodbye to another year of hopes that may some day," he looked toward Draco subtly, as to go unnoticed and winked at him, "come true." Draco was puzzled by his gesture.

Draco stared at his plate again, recollecting everything that had happened in the year. After Potter's god-father died he'd been moping about all of the time and acting like a complete git. Harry and Draco couldn't even have a proper argument anymore, as Harry would just ignore him or turn his attention towards something else. Whenever Draco would say something hurtful to Harry or do something to annoy him, he wouldn't even bite back with a witty retort. This made Draco frustrated and quite bored with him, so they pretty much stayed away from each other all year.

The school year had started off pretty slow as far as Voldemort was concerned. There was only one significant thing that Draco could remember happening, and at the time it hadn't even dawned on him that it was important.

He had a Slytherin-Gryffindor Quidditch match scheduled for the 23rd of December, the Friday before Christmas. Draco's father promised him a very rare magical artifact that he'd always coveted if he'd finally beat Harry, and after losing so many times he was absolutely determined. After all, Gryffindor was the only team that Draco could not beat, and he could not be mortified again.

During the summer before school Draco had practiced for countless hours every day, hoping his father would see his improvement and buy him a new broom. For some reason Potter always had a better broom than he did, and for this he grew even more bitter and on it placed the blame of his losing streak. After enrolling himself into a Summer Quidditch League and winning every consecutive game, his father finally buckled and bought him a new broom - the Lightspeed. With a dark cherry oak handle and a gold trimmed head, it was absolutely beautiful and much faster than the Firebolt.

Draco could still remember going down to the Quidditch Pitch at precisely twelve PM on the 23rd to listen to the pre-game pep talk. He hadn't been paying much attention to what the captain was saying as he was quite confident with his new broom. As he walked out onto the field the crowds were cheering, and he grudgingly shook hands with Harry. At the sound of the whistle they both rocketed high up into the air, and after only a few minutes they simultaneously set eyes on the snitch. Draco and Harry, both being excellent fliers, sped through their team mates in a mad race to catch the fluttering golden wings. However, as Potter was pulling off a dive that would make Wronski jealous, he suddenly lost grip of his broom and slipped off. Draco paid him no mind, seeing this as his perfect opportunity to finally catch the snitch; who cares if it was underhanded and wrong? He was a Slytherin for Merlin's sake. Unfortunately, right as he was about to place his hands around it he heard Madam Hooch's whistle, calling an early end to the game on account of Potter's injury.

He gracefully landed on the ground and watched with narrowed eyes as the Mudblood and Weasley ran towards him, surveying his injuries. Ginny, who had been made a Keeper that year, sat on the ground a close distance away from them; she was panting and tired from flying. Draco heard bits and pieces from the trio's conversation such as, "Scar… throbbing so painfully it blinded me… felt faint, lost control of the broom… voices in my head…I think he was here, hiding somewhere close by… watching me," and some other things he didn't understand. At the time he had been so furious about losing that he wasn't even thinking about what Potter was saying.

Draco hadn't truly thought about it again until late springtime, when a wave of letters started flowing in from his father, and the Slytherin common room was buzzing with anticipation. Even Snape was more on edge than usual, assigning more detentions than ever before. The Dark Lord, he had learned, had been surveying Harry's every move. He wanted to get inside him. He wanted to know every thought and be apart of every dream and crush every hope in the young man's head. And of course, the more Voldemort hurt Harry's closest loved ones, the more he could hurt Harry, as Harry had known all too well with the pain of Sirius's death. Voldemort had watched how Harry had bounced back so quickly, he was in a daze but still so resilient. Harry was constantly fighting an internal battle between good and evil. Voldemort needs more now than ever before, and he will stop at nothing to see Harry's downfall. Draco knew what he was planning, and although he was in a current state of denial, knew that he would play a significant part in it.

I have to stop it, he thought to himself, suddenly aware that people around him were getting up to relax in their commons and have their last sleep at Hogwarts until September. As much as I hate Potter, and every groveling, pathetic follower of him, I can't let myself be involved anymore. It can't last forever, and it wouldn't surprise my father if I was the one to collapse it all. It would be like a meticulously carved mirror cracking into pieces, and they would all come crashing down around me. My father has always despised me as weak and unfit to be his son and carry on the Malfoy name. And besides, it is not as much for Potter's good as for mine. I have to save myself.

And them, he was sure Dumbledore would say to him. You have to save them too, Draco.

He shook his head of his thoughts and practically floated across the Great Hall. His mind had gone into a daze and his body was operating mechanically, all on its own accord.

He stopped at a fork in the hallway. To his left led a corridor that twisted down into the staircases leading to the dungeons. To his immediate right stood a staircase, leading all the way up to the highest floors and spires among the clouds. He knew that the Slytherin common room would yet again be in a state of hyped up static for at least another four hours. He remembered looking at Pansy at dinner, all dark eyes and upturned nose and glittering chandelier earrings. He ascended the staircase to his right.

His feet were moving. The stairs seemed endless; he must have climbed at least three hundred by now. He stopped to the right of the staircase to catch his breath and regain momentum, his arm clutching the banister. When at least he finally reached the last stair he looked up past the open door of the astronomy tower and out the far window. He started walking unconsciously again and made his way the lean against the bar on the inside balcony.

He was confident that no one would come tonight to interrupt his thoughts. He, being a prefect, had restricted couples to come to the Astronomy Tower alone to snog.

And besides, he thought to himself and smirked, playing with the sheer fabric of the swaying curtains. If I caught them here, I could just take points and give them detention.

He looked out the window at the scenery of the grounds. The Astronomy Tower is the highest tower of Hogwarts, it almost seemed to float in midair, as it was just above the clouds. Draco could feel Heaven so close that if perhaps he had climbed a few more staircases he would be staring up at the golden gates. "Silly Draco," he chided himself. He thought of all of the evil deeds he had already committed, and things he would soon be persuaded to do. "Heaven would never take a Malfoy."

A sudden rustling and a thumping of footsteps ended his daze and startled him slightly. He turned around to see Ginny Weasley shuffling up the staircase, apparently looking for something. She stopped in front of him and looked into his face that was previously hidden by shadow. She was wearing pretty gold robes, and looked as if she was going somewhere. She also did not look happy.

"Disappointed to see me Weasley?" Draco taunted her. "Perhaps you were looking for someone else? You know, if you were coming up here to degrade yourself and screw some half-blood, I could easily take 50 points from Gryffindor and assign you and the unfortunate bloke a week of detentions."

"You wouldn't," she said. Her delicate face was quickly shaping into anger and panic.

"Wouldn't I?" he asked her. His eyes were blackened coal, glittering in a way that they almost resembled diamonds. He was wearing his school uniform: dark grey pants, grey sweater with the white collar tee and the Slytherin tie. He was also wearing a black wool cloak that clashed with his white hair which fell in soft, fine pieces just past his eyebrows. He was a shadow in the darkness under the stars; he was unholy and beautiful.

She looked nervously down at his wand, which was twisting in his hand. "You know Weasley, with everything that's happened in the past… would you ever place any trust in a Malfoy?"

"You just can't do that… just assume. You know what happens if we get detention on the last night here, we're suspended from the first Hogsmeade visit next year…."

"Then tell me Virginia -" he started to say but was cut off.

"Ginevra," she corrected.

"Excuse me?" he asked pointedly, looking up while examining his fingernails.

"My name is Ginevra, not Virginia, but please," she begged with sarcasm and looked at him with more disgust than ever, "do continue."

"I don't care what your filthy Mudblood loving name is. Just stop talking," he snapped at her irritably. "And tell me what the hell you're doing up here, or who you're planning on doing, or planning on waiting for."

Just then more feet came clambering up the stairs. Seamus Finnegan's tow blond head came into view and he looked surprised if not confused to see Ginny and Draco standing together. Draco looked triumphant.

"So," he said silkily, looking at Ginny who was practically cowering beside Seamus. "What do we have here? A pureblooded witch who decided to swim in tainted waters. How completely revolting," Seamus instantly jumped at him but Draco was quick to defend himself and Ginny stepped between them. Seamus's eyes darkened and he looked angrily at Draco who was unruffled.

"You absolute bastard Malfoy," Ginny seethed. She was looking right at him and before he had time to say anything she slapped him hard across the cheek. He fingered the red spot and the most hateful look came across his face that Ginny had ever seen.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor for being insubordinate to a prefect, fifty points from Gryffindor for assaulting another student, and restriction from the first Hogsmeade visit of next school year for disregarding the rules. Now get out of here before I take more!"

Ginny and Seamus decided not to press any further and descended the staircase. Draco laid down on a bed that was built into the wall next to the left window. He ran his hands across the small cracks on the wall, wondering how many hundred years it had been since they'd been filled. He knew what he had to do, and also knew that he couldn't afford any extra time. He begrudgingly sat up and moved from his comfortable spot and traveled down to the main floor.

He walked down a few hallways, the irony of being a prefect sneaking around when he should be in bed was not lost on him.

Still, he remained adamant, and paused in front of a large Gargoyle statue.

I don't know what's possessing me to do this, he thought. I just can't be his marionette any more.

He took a deep breath, sighed, and whispered the password into Dumbledore's office.

How was it? Bad? Terrible? I know things aren't making sense right now, but I promise that the plot holes will be filled. Perhaps some of you can piece little hints together?

R+R!

Oh, and a brief FYI – There have been some people saying that prefects can't take points or assign detentions, well, they actually can do both. If you go to JKR's website and look you will see that Ron got it wrong when he said they couldn't take points in OOtP, because they can.

Thank you.