Disclaimer: I do NOT own Harry Potter. I wish I did but J.K. Rowling deserves all the credit. Shame...

Chapter 1

He had to do it. He knew he had to. Even if he didn't want to, he'd do it. But he wanted to, so that wasn't a problem.

It was perfect. The perfect plan. It had been devised ever since his graduation from Hogwarts, two years ago.

He was a nineteen year old, healthy, intelligent, and evil man. He was a gorgeous man. Everyone thought so, even the boys...

His blonde hair enchanted the eyes, his wet smirk pained the stomach, his demanding body sweated the palms, his high cheekbone goosebumped the arms-you could go on for hours-but his livid, electric, depressed, metallic eyes could kill. Were they blue? Were they gray? You couldn't tell. Perhaps it was in the middle? The color caught between fanaticizing blue and drab gray was Draco Malfoy's eyes. It was his color, and his alone. It described him so perfectly if you just looked.

'Was he blue or gray?' One particular boy had wondered (as he does so much); one particular boy that everyone in the wizarding world knew. This boy-or rather-man couldn't choose between the two, and it drew him even closer than he already dangerously was to Draco. Although this man didn't know it, and maybe never will, but his wonderings about Draco were always in vein. This is because Draco is neither blue nor gray. As I said, he's squished in the middle for the simple reason so everyone would wonder what he was, where he came from, why he was such a pompous prick. Everyone wondered, especially the boy who lived.

Could this boy ever find out? Did he even want to in the beginning? If so, would Draco tell him? If so, would it alter both of their fragile lives? Their lives that were drawn to an alternate perfection, timed to the second, written for the world to see.

This brings us back to the plan. That plan which changes so much. Who would have thought? No one, that's who.

---

"Where is the goddamned house?" He asked himself, apparently annoyed. He had been driving in an old muggle car, a BMW to be exact, for half an hour too long. 'What's the point of cars?' He found himself wondering time and time again while in the muggle world. 'Why cant they just wizen up and walk? It would save our air.'

He wasn't too worried about his air supply at the moment though, not at all actually. He was more worried about what he was about to do once he found the correct house. He opened the glove compartment by banging his fist against it and pulled a map from it. He let his eyes wander across the sketched roads and colored blocks. He hated muggle things…he hated many things come to think of it.

"Aha!" He smiled in triumph while jabbing his finger on a small light green square printed on the map. "I've found you." He said as he switched the gears and pressed his foot on the gas petal. His eyes turned into a manic glint once he reached the old mansion.

There was a light on dimly in the top window to the right. 'That's where he must be' he thought. Draco opened the car door and took a step out onto the crooked sidewalk. He could feel his left forearm burning slightly from his bouncing energy level. He still couldn't believe what he was about to do. He supposed it was an honor.

Biting his bottom lip, he approached the wooden door of the house. It opened without a creak. Perfect.

The house, as far as he could see, was neat and smelled of the outside. Like grass and sweat. Such a boyish smell...such a Potter smell. He blinked a few times and withdrew his wand before climbing the staircase.

Not a sound of him was heard. He was like panther slowly crawling towards its prey, his eyes wide for movement, his ears perked for a sound, and his hands gripping for action. If he weren't cautious about talking he would have cursed the stairs for being so long. It was taking an infinity to reach the room with the dim light.

And he made it. He whipped the sweat falling from his forehead with the sleeve of his robe and silently, footfall after footfall, brought himself to the door at the end of the hall. There was a silver glow emitting from the bottom crack of the door and at the keyhole of the handle. That's where he was. His innocent prey was in that room, waiting patiently for him.

How sweet this moment was. He knew exactly what was going to happen, exactly what he was going to do, and exactly what Potter will never be able to control. This was Draco's moment, and he lavished every silent step across the throw rug.

There didn't seem to be any point in whipping his forehead from the sweat now that it was pouring from his scalp. He was a foot away from his destination. He could hear faint mumbles of a television box through the other side of the door. If only Potter knew what was going to happen to him, then maybe he'd stand a chance. But he didn't know. All the better for Draco.

He placed a light hand on the brass doorknob and flicked it open. The door's hinges easily turned, allowing Draco to look at his unlucky, unarmed prisoner.

Harry was lazily spread out across his mattress, wearing stripped pajama pants, slowing falling into dreamland while listening to Jeopardy when the door to his room opened wide, but gradually. He cracked his eyes open wider and lifted his head from his pillow. He flung his arm to his bedside table to retrieve his wand when he saw a shadowy figure of a man in the doorframe.

As soon as his fingertips grazed the long wand with the phoenix tail feather, a surprisingly clam voice announced, "Expelliarmus" and the wand flew to the unrecognized body.

Harry squinted through the dim light for a better look at the man, his heart pounding madly. Was this the way he was to die? After all he's gone through, he's reduced to this pitiful death? Perhaps it was just Hermione or Ron? They could be playing a nasty trick on him. Yes, that was it. That had to be it.

His thoughts weren't calmed though. Harry staggered to his feet, rubbing furiously at his eyes underneath the thick glasses. When he looked back up he saw a blur of soft blonde. Focusing his eyes further, he recognized a pair of glorious eyes. They were neither gray nor blue. He stood transfixed at the eyes until he heard, "Say goodnight Potter. For the next time you open your eyes you'll be tied to a chair in my manor."

And all became black for Harry Potter. And it would remain black until Draco could accept it.

All of it...

---

My first chapter. Expect some great things in the next! Leave a review and my next chapter will come out sooner.

Thanks for reading,
Chelsea