Disclamer: See Prologue.
WARNINGS: SLASH (Meaning BoyxBoy. HP/DM.) Don't like, don't read. Cursing, Hermione, Ron, and Dumbledore!Bashing.
AN: In my mind HBP never happened. Also, the prophecy was never heared. So I guess you could say this is a wee bit of an AU...
The train whistle blew loudly, it was soon to depart and Harry saw no trace of Hermione or Ron. Dragging his trunk into the train, he quickly searched for them, noticing the looks of disgust and fear from various Hogwarts students. He smiled a little at Neville Longbottom when he passed him, but grew confused as the boy he knew since they were both eleven turned pale.
"…Neville? What the fuck is wrong with you?" Harry snapped, causing the other boy to flinch and whimper in fear.
"Haven't you read the Daily Profit this summer?" Neville responded, looking around him for a way out.
"No… I've stopped reading that rubbish after all the shit they wrote about me over the years…"
"Well, they--- we think you might have went dark… you know after what happened with Sirius, and Cedric, they all get hurt around you… and well, you've faced He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named nearly every year, and yet, neither of you have finished each other off. And well, you do have a bad temper… and---"
"So you think I'm helping the bastard who killed my parents?!" Harry interrupted, his face growing a deep wine red.
"Well… yeah… I guess. But it's not just me; it's Hermione and Ron, too! Everyone believes Rita Skeeter… She does put up a pretty good point. I mean, what about those dreams you had, connecting you with You-Know-Who?"
"Neville just shut up." Harry walked off leaving a thoroughly scared Neville.
"How could they all just leave me like that, like I don't even matter? Like those five years of my friendship doesn't matter. THEY WERE THERE! They saw what happened to Sirius." Harry muttered to himself, wiping tears from his eyes, searching frantically for an empty compartment.
"Merlin, Potter. What the fuck happened to you?" Harry heard a familiar voice shout, mirth in their voice.
"Sod off, Malfoy. I really don't need this, right now."
"Oh, seems wee Potty's having a bad day." Malfoy laughed, brushing against Harry's shoulder to walk away. Hearing Harry hiss in pain, he looked a little worried, before slipping back on his Ice-Prince mask. "What's wrong with you? Got a little boo-boo on your arm? Did your mommy kiss it all better? Oh wait… I forgot. She's dead!"
"Malfoy, please."
"Now you're begging, eh Potter? I thought dark lords don't beg people, Potter."
"I'm not dark, Malfoy. Never will be. Now, lay off."
"Or what? You'll hex me?" Malfoy laughed loudly, but stopped abruptly when Harry walked away. "Don't you dare leave, Potter. I'm not done with you!"
"Deal." Harry said quietly, leaving Malfoy yelling at his back. Finally finding an empty compartment in the back of the train. Locking the door, he did not notice the dark shadow of someone by the said door. He sank down into the cushioned seat, tears blurring his vision.
He knew what he wanted. Draco. The Ice Prince of Slytherin. No, he didn't want him. He needed him. He knew that Draco could be his savior, the one that would save him from himself, but, well, Draco was as straight as they came. It was obvious, with that slut Pansy Parkinson always hanging on him. The thought made Harry's stomach twist.
He wanted to believe that Pansy was the only one stopping him from being with Draco, but then he realized, even if Draco was gay, they were from opposite sides of the gene pool. Draco was rich, smart, funny, popular, interesting, not to mention drop dead gorgeous. Harry was, on the other hand, poor, an idiot, obviously lacking many friends as of right now, as dull as they came, hideous, and then there was that impending death threat on his head.
Thus, the need to cut, at least once more, before catches him and tries to help him, surged through him. But he didn't need help. No, he needed something he could never have, true love.
Sobs went through his whole body as he thought of his parents, Sirius, Cedric, Hedwig. Hermione and Ron. All those who were there, supposed to be helping him were gone, and he was left with no one. No friends, and it would be safe to say, family. Not many would consider those muggles family. Thinking back to all the times Harry was verbally and emotionally abused by Vernon, Harry realized, normal family members don't do that to loved ones.
Fuck, life could never be easy for the boy wonder. For once, Harry just wanted to be normal, with a loving family, and friends who cared. Maybe even a doting boyfriend. But no. He had none of that. Hell, he couldn't even be granted a flippin' pet without that being taken away. Maybe he should have taken up that offer Voldemort gave him in the first year at Hogwarts. Maybe that fucking bastard was the one-way Harry could achieve his long earned freedom.
"Maybe that's the only way that---" Just then, a sharp knock jarred Harry from his thoughts. "Can't anyone leave me alone?" He slowly eased his tired body out of the seat he sat on, rolled down his sleeve carefully, not trying to disturbed his now bloodied arm, and opened the door, putting on his best "WTF" face.
"Thanks, Potter." Malfoy pushed his way in, and strode to a seat across from where Harry was sitting. "So, where's the other part of the 'not-so-Golden Trio'?"
Harry glared at Malfoy and sat across from him, trying to hide the bloody knife from the blonde's view. "They decided they had enough of me, I'd gather."
Malfoy's smirk widened as he heard the sadness in Harry's voice. Just then, he noticed a glint of red and silver shine behind Harry's back. "Gods, Potter. What the fuck is that?"
"What's what?" Harry asked, paling slightly.
"The knife, maybe?" Malfoy said, trying to reach out and grab the poorly concealed weapon.
"Oh, that? It's nothing. I was uh… cleaning out my bag and nicked myself on it. Tried to clean it up, and you interrupted me."
"Please, Potter. Stop lying, you can hardly lie yourself out of a paper bag." Harry raised his eyebrow at that comment. "What? Can't I use a muggle phrase once and a while?"
"Uh, sure, Malfoy. Listen, I don't want you to worry your pretty head about fucked-up-Harry Potter. So why don't we just pretend this conversation never happened, and you didn't see anything, OK?"
"No, Potter. You need help."
"Why should I accept your help? You would only try to lead me to Voldemort anyway." Malfoy flinched at the name, and Harry rolled his eyes. "You'd think the son of his right hand man would have grown used to hearing the name, yeah?"
"Potter, you have no idea what you are talking about. Give me the knife."
"Uh, sorry, Malfoy, but no. I don't want to risk the great Draco Malfoy stabbing me with it later on."
"Potter, you are more delusional than I thought. Look, your arm is fucking bleeding, your shirt is stained, and you look paler than normal. Give. Me. The. Knife!"
"This isn't my shirt, it's my cousin's. And give me one good reason why I should give it to you."
"The Dark Lord would kill me if you died?"
"Somehow that one doesn't really sway me."
"You're too important to kill yourself?"
"Please, the wizarding world would manage without their savior."
"I'll do the chicken dance if you do?"
"What?!" At that point, Malfoy saw his chance and tackled Harry, trying to grab hold of the knife. "Malfoy, get off me!" Harry begged to the deities that Malfoy wouldn't notice the affects his actions were having on Harry's nether-regions. Think McGonagall in lace panties being whipped by Snape. Harry told himself, which luckily did the trick.
His lust soon turned to anger as he tried to push the Slytherin Seeker off him. "Draco Malfoy, get the fuck off of me!" The knife slipped into the Blonde's fingers, and he backed off, victorious.
"Hmm. Nice knife Potter. Still sharp after who knows how long you've used it. I'm impressed you'd think of a ever-sharp charm."
"My Godfather gave it to me." Harry said quietly. And quickly Malfoy sobered.
"Look, Pot-Harry, I'm sorry for what my Aunt did to your Godfather."
Harry looked up, loving the way that his name sounded coming from Malfoy with no anger, no spite. "I don't want your pity, Draco." Oh, how he loved saying that, he could say his first name over, and over again if he wanted to.
"It's not pity, Harry. I am truly sorry about him. I would hate to lose my godfather."
Harry nodded, tears in his eyes. "Thanks, I guess. But, it doesn't make sense. Why are you treating me so nice after all these years?"
"A. I'd like to remind you that you were the one to reject my friendship. And B. I don't have anything to lose by befriending you, and obviously, the same goes for you."
Harry smiled at Draco, really wishing that what he said could happen. "I wish we could. I just don't know if I could learn to trust again, Draco. Heh, that sounds like some dumb soap-opera quote."
"Soap-opera? Is that like, a musical staring soap?"
"It's a muggle thing." Harry started to chew on his nails, a nervous habit he had picked up a while ago. Draco swatted his hand away from his mouth. "What?"
"You're ruining your nails, that's what!"
"You are such a girl, Draco."
"A girl with nice nails, though." That sent Harry laughing. "You have a nice laugh." Draco said out of the blue. Then, after realizing what he said, promptly blushed.
"Er, thanks?" Gods, Draco looked nice when he blushes, he thought. He smiled and lamely said, "I'm sure your laugh is quite pleasant as well." Way to fail at life, Potter. Harry mentally kicked himself.
Draco chuckled at that comment. "Why, thank you. Listen, Harry, I have to go, but why don't you meet Pansy, Blaise, and I in one of the carriages once we reach Hogsmead Station. I know they are dying to meet you."
Harry nodded. "So, are Pansy and you really a couple?"
Draco laughed at that. "Last time I checked, Pansy wasn't a guy. So, no, I don't think so." With a wink and a wave, Draco left Harry alone in the compartment, wondering what just happened, and if he would ever get his knife back.
AN: Whoo, so that's done. I really didn't like how this chapter came out, but whatever. Don't really know what I could change, I'll leave that up to you guys to review. Basically, I got the idea for this chapter and the prologue from Matchbox Twenty's song Unwell, hence the title. Anyway, review, and tell me what you think. I'll then decided what to do. So expect an update, if you want one, in about two weeks, hopefully. Thankies!!
