The prologue to a Harry/Draco fan fic. I wrote this a while back and, due to the unexpected response to my First Class fic thus far, decided to revise it and post it here. Hope you enjoy. Reviews and suggestions welcome. Happy reading~

Just A Game

Prologue – A Pawn in the Plan

A cool breeze glided through the air, tantalizing me with the crisp smells it brought with it from the trees behind me. The sun had long ago disappeared behind the horizon, and the only sounds that could be heard were the faint rustlings of leaves and the rippling water that licked the shore. Perfect silence. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply.

"I'm sorry, Harry," a soft, trembling voice penetrated the quiet, and the calmness in the air seemed to evaporate suddenly. I didn't have a chance to respond or question before the weight in my lap was gone and I watched, confused, as the figure retreated, his back to me, and stumbled to meet a slowly advancing silhouette.

When they met, the figure turned but did not meet my gaze. A chill ran through my entire body.

I saw him standing there, at the side of my worst enemy. He was only a few yards away in reality, but it might as well have been miles. At that moment, which seemed more like an eternity, I could only silently ask myself what had gone wrong. Never once did I question myself on my decision to trust him; not once did he give me any reason to doubt his sincerity. Yet there he was on the apposing team, positioned next to Voldemort, wand in hand, pointing it at me. Some judge of character I was.

"Draco…" His name came out in a whisper. It was all I could muster up after being so taken aback by his betrayal. Just moments before, in fact, Draco Malfoy had been laying on the ground next to me, his head in my lap, staring up at the tree where many times before my friends and I had spent our between-class breaks next to the lake.

The cold, seemingly-indifferent expression on Draco's downturned face didn't change at all at the sound of his name escaping my lips. Only the grip on his wand tightened, and seemed to be in anger. Voldemort, however, smiled a cruel smile, and his cloaked shoulders began to shake with muted laughter. "Harry Potter," the Dark Lord began. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, and a shiver went through my spine at the sound of my name. "You are a fool, Harry, a fool to think that the boy was on your side. You are… alone." The smile widened. It was unnerving.

Beside him, Draco's shoulders sank ever so slightly. Part of me wanted to pity the boy I thought had loved me, but I could not. I hated him at that moment. "He has always been mine, a mere pawn in this plan." The blood rang in my ears, yet I could not speak. My wand lay on the ground beside me; I inched my way toward it with my hand, ready to throw myself at it if need be.

Time seemed to tick by, inching its way toward my death, which I was sure was coming very soon. It was inevitable.

"Harry Potter," Voldemort seemed to be savoring the sound of my name for the last time. He glided behind Draco and, placing his hands on the blond boy's shoulders, whispered, "It's time, Draco, to end this." Draco didn't dare to so much as shiver. Voldemort stood back and, to me this time, said, "It has been a fun game, but I think it is past time to declare our winner. Goodbye, Harry."

And so, with that, I sat there and watched as Draco prepared to cast his curse. For a moment or two, everything was in slow motion, even slower than it had seemed before. His lifeless, grey eyes met mine before his mouth began to move. "Avada—"

I lunged and, suddenly, everything sped up as my hand found and gripped the object that was my wand. "—Kedavra." I whipped by whole body around, wand at the ready, to counter the green flash that came from Draco's wand…