Prologue

The white ceiling of his barren room was becoming increasingly intriguing. Even as he tried to distract himself with the discoloration on his walls, a small smile was brought to his bruised face. He didn't know what his friends would think, and he honestly didn't want to care.

Rolling out of his bed, Harry pulled out the pack of cigarettes and lit one without magic. Placing it between his swollen lips, he recalled the lips he had felt against his own less than an hour before. It was worth the beating from his uncle. It was worth the hunger. It was worth the pain, because Harry Potter knew that if he went one more moment without the taste of the other boy's lips he would go insane.

Without a regret, he pulled open his bedroom window, and began his descent into the unknown.

Chapter 1

The smell of cigarette smoke mixed with cologne as Harry rolled over. Grass tickled his face, as he inched closer to the other boy. Smiling he reached over until his lips grazed the boy's cheekbone, and he laughed as the other boy groaned in false agony.

"Come on Harry, you know I hate it when you do that," he said as Harry rolled onto his back. He took another long drag of his cigarette and chuckled. Stars reflected in his emerald eyes, and a small wrinkle appeared near where ebony hair met alabaster skin. His mouth, full of smoke, opened as he turned to the other boy.

"I like teasing you, Luke," Harry said with affection in his eyes. Peering into the other boy's pale blue eyes he continued, "You're cute when you blush.". He reached with one hand to brush a lock of curly brown hair away from Luke's face. Luke caught Harry's hand and used it to pull the other boy closer to him. Lips met in sweet silence and both boys kissed as Harry's cigarette lay forgotten on the damp grass.

"I don't want you to go," Luke later whispered into Harry's chest as Harry stared up into the stars.

"I don't want to go either," he responded after a moment. He let out a shaky laugh as his hands played with Luke's dark hair. "I never thought I would say that. I never had a home here in Surrey. I was unwanted. Now I've found my home in you," he said while blinking away tears. Luke grabbed Harry's other hand, interlacing his long delicate fingers with Harry's.

"You'll always have a home in me Harry Potter. I love you," Luke said looking up at Harry. Harry's throat tightened and his green eyes watered as he finally let go and began to cry. Luke reached for Harry's chin and brought Harry's lips to his own. Their kiss was bittersweet, and Harry was sure that he could taste salt on Luke's tanned face, but he sat up, and pulled Luke closer to him, lacing his fingers in the boy's hair. When their kiss ended, Harry rested his forehead against Luke's.

"You're mine. Forever," he said through tears of love and sadness. Luke met his gaze with a smile.

"I know."

Harry bent over his school trunk which he had just been permitted access to. He took out all the books and robes, sighing as he emptied his trunk of old crumbs and debris. He pulled out a broken quill, nicking his finger upon something sharp underneath a scrap of paper.

"Merlin's bullocks!" he swore, bringing his finger up to his mouth. After a moment of pain, he reached under the paper and brought the unknown item up to eye level. It was a shard of Sirius's mirror. With a sigh, he wrapped it between two socks, and placed it at the bottom of his newly clean trunk. After a few minutes of mindless packing, he came across an item of clothing that was not his. He brought the dark green hoodie up to his face, and breathed in deeply, catching a scent of cologne. Suppressing tears, he folded the hoodie up carefully, and placed it at the top of his trunk. What if I never see him again.

After Sirius had died, he had withdrawn from everyone. Remus had disappeared after witnessing his lover's death, and Harry had no one to turn to. He was tired of seeing the looks of pity and concern on everyone's faces. He was tired of being asked if he was alright, because no matter how many times someone asked the answer wouldn't have changed. He felt like someone had torn away another piece of his family. Another person dead. Another person who didn't get to see him grow up. Another person who had died because of Harry.

Returning to Privet Drive felt like a breath of fresh air, because amongst the beatings and lengthy chores, he rarely had a moment to remember Sirius. When he did find a moment to remember, there was always Luke's warm embrace to comfort him and make him forget. Luke had taken the broken pieces left of Harry, and put them back together piece by piece with every loving caress, kiss and embrace. In Luke's arms Harry had found a new family, and a new place to call home. Meeting Luke had been a blessing in his hellish life. No matter how much he loved Hermione and Ron, returning to Hogwarts would take a lot out of him. It would force him to remember, and remembering was not something he did well.

"Hurry up boy!" his uncle called up the stairs. Harry sighed once again, readjusting his glasses and running cut up fingers between his ebony locks. It seemed only moments ago he had felt long delicate fingers running through his hair, pulling him closer, making him feel whole. Now he felt empty.

Harry stood up, straightening his back, and grabbing his trunk and Hedwig's cage. It seemed that at the end of every summer, the biggest struggle he faced was getting down the stairs with his belongings without dying. This summer was not the case. Luke had made sure Harry was fed, even if it meant climbing up to his window while quoting Romeo and Juliet. He had stopped quoting Romeo and Juliet when Harry reminded him of the ending.

"If you don't get your freaky self down these stairs right now boy, I'll teach you a lesson you won't ever forget!" his uncle yelled again from downstairs.

"Coming, uncle Vernon," Harry responded civilly, while travelling down the stairs at a fast pace. When he descended the stairs, he was met by an almost comical sight. His walrus of an uncle, who had no neck, and a purple swollen face stood beside his aunt and cousin. His cousin resembled a small blond whale, whereas his aunt was painfully skinny, with a giraffe neck, and a face that bore much resemblance to a horse.

"Looks like the freaks going back to his freak school to be a pouf," Dudley said with a proud laugh. His mother smiled down at him as if it was the most genius thing anyone had ever said, and Harry had to physically restrain himself from informing them that if he was a pouf at Hogwarts he would still be a pouf everywhere else.

"It was as always, a pleasure to stay at your beautiful abode," Harry said with a crooked smile that reminded Petunia of the dratted man her sister had married. Feeling satisfaction at Dudley's confused look, Harry climbed into Vernon's car, and waited patiently to be dropped off at Kings Cross. Harry purposefully refused to look up at the sky. He had, on too many occasions compared Luke's eyes to the sky.

Upon reaching Kings Cross, Harry's uncle continued the annual departure ritual. It was a beautiful ritual. It was composed of a talking walrus glaring at a skinny young boy. Said walrus, would then grasp the boy's shoulder and inform him that if they received any letters from the freak school there would be hell to pay. He would conclude the ritual by informing Harry that it would be his greatest pleasure to hear that Harry had died freakishly during the school year. Harry would then smile at his uncle, and tell him that it would be his greatest pleasure to die as well, if it meant he didn't have to return to their hellhole of a home, before running away with his trolley.

As Harry walked towards the barrier he clenched his fingers, tightly around his trolley, while pulling out his wand for the first time in weeks. Muttering the incantation, he covered all the bruises and hickeys with a simple glamour, before sticking his wand in his back pocket. Pressing one hand to his throat, he felt the sensitive skin against his neck, and wished he could have been given another moment- another moment to love and be loved. He wasn't even sure if Luke would still be waiting for him when he returned from Hogwarts. He wasn't sure if he would survive long enough to return to Luke.

"Harry!" he heard the screech. Before Harry could react he was attacked by a bush of brown curly hair.

"Hi Hermione," he said while hugging his smaller friend. She still smelled of old books and lavender, even after a summer away from the Hogwarts library.

"Hi? That's all you have to say? You didn't send us a single letter." Hermione said while staring up at Harry. Harry suddenly found interest in his ripped fingernails. Hermione grasped his calloused hands in her own small ones. "Are you alright Harry?"she asked him with eyes full of concern and pity, shining with tears of unspoken things and a longing to comfort her friend. Harry forced his lips to curl upwards,

"I'm doing phenomenally, Mione," he said to her after a moment. Hermione gained a skeptical look in her honey colored eyes, but seemed to let the matter go. She hugged him again, surreptitiously checking to see if he felt any thinner than before he left.

"Have they been feeding you?" she asked him with a look of mild confusion. Harry laughed as if the thought was ridiculous.

"No Mione, I've been getting food from a friend," he said with a faint smile. He began to walk towards the barrier, and guided Hermione forward with his free hand.

"A friend?" Hermione repeated as if she couldn't recall Harry having any friends other than her or Ron. "Who?" she asked while Harry led them through the barrier. Way to go Harry. Now come up with a suitable response.

"Lu-Lucy. Her name is Lucy," Harry said. He wasn't ready to admit his sexuality to his friends when he was only beginning to figure it out for himself.

"Is she a muggle?" she asked while standing on her toes to look for a hoard of redheads.

"Yes. Her family lives a few streets away from mine. We've been friends for a while," he said softly. Hermione was distracted by her searching and turning to Harry after a minute.

"What was that you said, Harry," she said.

"N-Nothing."

The scarlet Hogwarts express would have normally welcomed him home, but now it felt like another factor taking him further away from home. With every step towards it, he would be reminded of Sirius and his parents. He wanted desperately to turn around and run. He wanted to talk to someone who could understand. He wanted Remus. He needed Luke. Grey steam rose from the engine as the train let out a whistle, letting all passengers know it was close to departing.

"Let's find a compartment. Ron can find us later," Hermione said while grabbing her belongings. Harry followed obediently in suit, knowing it was wiser to listen to what Hermione said to do.

The inside of the train was no less hectic than the exterior. Students ran down the main hall of the train, compartment doors, opened and slammed shut, while students laughed and smiled, happy to finally return to school. Harry gripped his bag even tighter, his knuckles turning white as he struggled to keep pace with Hermione. He felt the sudden urge for a cigarette. He wanted to feel the smoke, deep and heavy as it filled up his lungs, and then to blow it out slowly along with all his troubles. Hermione darted between the students standing in the hallway, and Harry struggled to keep track of her.

That was when he smelled it. Cologne. Deep and musky. Mixed with the memory of smoke and stars. Harry dropped his trunk and Hedwig before racing down the train. He weaved between people, and shoved others, trying to keep a hold on that scent. His feet left the floor before they hit it, and he flew further and further down the train. Before he knew it he had reached the prefect's compartment, which was now filled with the remnants of a dung bomb.

"Blasted Weasel twins, always dropping their shit everywhere!" Harry heard the voice before he saw the pale pointed face of the Malfoy scion. He looked paler than usual, and his face looked hollowed out. Small wrinkles had appeared on his forehead and he was currently sneering at the state of the prefects compartment. Harry knew Fred and George had most likely stopped by to give the Slytherins a parting gift as Harry's fifth year had been their last year at Hogwarts.

"Easy for you to say, flying ferret," Harry responded tightly. He couldn't believe the scent brought him here. Crossing one arm over his chest while plugging his nose with the other, Harry leaned casually on the frame of the compartment's door. Malfoy looked up, his pale blue eyes widening for a moment. He then reached up to pat down his platinum hair, a nervous gesture for the aristocratic boy.

"Is that the best you can come up with at the moment, Potter," Malfoy said with a sneer. His words were filled with venom, and his marmoreal face was etched into an expression of disdain, but there was something different. The hate didn't reach his eyes. Harry stood, confused for a moment before clearing his throat.

"Unfortunately yes," Harry responded civilly. Malfoy looked surprised, as if he had been expect a string of vulgar terms to leave Harry's mouth, but then he offered an easy smirk. I've seen that look somewhere.

"Why are you here, Potter," he said with a sigh. It was an odd tone accompanied with the facial expression, but Harry didn't make much of it.

"I thought I smelled something familiar," Harry said softly. A foreign expression covered the boy's face, and he dug his fingernails into his palm. Closing his hand into a fist, he spared one last glance at Malfoy, who was rubbing his arm. Harry spun on his heel and began to leave, before his arm was caught in someone else's hand.

"Wait!" Malfoy said. He looked at Harry with a desolate expression, devoid of all emotion. But when Harry looked into the cold icy blue eyes, he saw regret. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Malfoy dropped to his knees, and he looked up at Harry desperately, clenching onto Harry's arm for dear life. His long aristocratic fingers reminded Harry of another hand, a hand that grazed his face with loving touches. Harry looked down at Malfoy disgusted, and wrenched his arm out of the other boy's grasp. He ran away from the compartment, unnerved and confused. I'm so sorry…