Title: Bad Faith
Author name: badfaith

Chapter: 6/?
Author email: anna@tomfelton.zzn.com

Author website: http://www.undisgusied.net and http://nightfall.undisguised.net
Category: Angst
Sub Category: Drama
Rating: R
Summary: Draco Malfoy learned a few things he didn't want to know, and as a result he is plunged into a war. Will Harry Potter be able to save him before it's too late? Or will Harry learn things that might condemn Draco to death?
DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. The plot and title are mine, though!

Warning: This story contains slash, which is a boy-boy relationship. If that's not your cup o' tea, I suggested you find some that is, or you'll miss your teatime.

Chapter Six

Premonitions Of Despair

Break The Glass



There are two main ways to look at life...

You can look at the window

At the dirt that stains the pane

At its boundaries and its frame

That confides you inside

Or

You can look through the window

To where it rains or shines

Where you'll find the lemons and the limes

Yet you can't be there

Either way you are on the inside looking out

To where you wish to be

Life starts the same for everyone

It is just the way you look at it

That makes it what you see

But then again you could always break the glass...

--Warui Warui Neko





He had a headache. It was the kind that pulsated painfully at his temple, stabbing every second. He had tried everything to make it go away, but nothing had worked yet. The headache was scattering his thoughts into pandemonium. He couldn't collect a single one. The confusion of what he had done at the train compartment filled his mind. Shaken hands with Potter? He had felt like some unseen force had guided through the whole encounter. What in hell was going on? The thoughts weren't his (why would he think those obscene thoughts about Potter), and the actions definitely weren't. What was this creepy feeling that something was wrong, like everything was slightly out of whack, like, the floor was tilted, and there was two of everything. After a short while, the headache increased, and the dread grew heavier upon his soul. A thump made him jerk his head up quickly in reflex, causing a wave of pain and blackness to blur his vision. The last thing that Draco saw was a tall figure standing in the doorway before his body crumpled helplessly into a heap of black on the compartment floor.

10 minutes earlier
Train Compartment

Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat quietly on the train seat. Ron was nervously twiddling his thumbs, and tapping his feet to an unknown beat. Harry was looking out the window and slightly humming under his breath, and Hermione was looking at Harry, then glancing at Ron, and soon turned her face towards the compartment door, a look on her face silently pleading for an answer. They all knew the moment was about to come, and Harry and Hermione took a deep breath to steel themselves for the arriving moment.

"Ok, what in bloody hell was that?!" Ron looked anxiously from Hermione to Harry, both who had sat up straight as soon as Ron had yelled 'Ok'. Ron's look had a questioning gaze of mixed confusion and anger. "He bloody shook your hand, Harry. Who the hell does he think his is?" Both Harry and Hermione had anticipated the language. Ron only was that vulgar when he was riled so badly he couldn't take anymore.

Hermione sighed with a tinge of sadness laced in her voice, and tried to calm Ron down. "Ron, c'mon. Something obviously happened over summer. Maybe he decided not to be mean anymore. I mean, you both saw him hesitate. And the way he looked at Harry. Ron, we have to discuss this rationally. Malfoy is a human being." Hermione looked pointedly at both boys sitting across from her, trying to get her point across.


"Bloody hell he is." Ron muttered savagely under his breath, but Harry stilled him with a look.

"I know, Herm. But…well, he's Malfoy. Something's up. He wouldn't be arguing one second, then shaking my hand the next if something wasn't. You know that, Herm. And Ron -- try not to be such an easy target by reacting that way to his childish insults. He's just trying to provoke you into a fight." Harry spoke up.

Ron sighed in defeat and nodded, but got a curious look on his face as if something he hadn't thought before crossed his mind. His brow furrowed in consternation. "I just thought of something, Harry. He's right you know." Ron met Harry and Hermione's eyes in complete sincerity, "You have found yourself, Harry. That's what hurts me. He saw it first, that brainless git. He saw something I never realized this whole summer."

Harry didn't speak. He sensed the hurt and confusion in Ron, and the helplessness in Hermione, who was unable to comfort the person she loved. But he also sensed a foreboding wave of horror and shock aboard the train. Harry felt a spark of Dark Magic light up the end of the train, and his scar started to throb. But, as soon as it had come on, the pain disappeared, and so had the emanating fear. Harry shook the lingering feeling away, and went back to his friends, who had changed the subject in hopes of lightening up the atmosphere.





Sorting Ceremony

The sorting ceremony had irked Harry. Amid normal occasions – such as a new DADA professor (as usual, there was a new one, seeing as everyone thought it was cursed, and the position was left empty for someone to refill every year) who, in Harry's opinion, seemed kind enough, because he had smiled warmly in Harry's direction (his name was Professor Linus Node, whereas the students were to call him Professor Node) – Harry still felt a slight breeze of Dark Magic in the air. Harry had also noticed that Dumbledore was slightly subdued from his usual merriment, and cried even more than usual when the school sang the Hogwarts School Song, and had no uplifting words at the end. All the professors looked slightly worn out already, even though the year hadn't even started yet. Even Professor Snape looked slightly paler, and, if it was possible, greasier than usual. Harry also noted with a slight curiosity, that Malfoy was jumping at every little squeak and whisper, and had even fallen off his chair, which afterwards a faint rosy tinge flushed his pale cheeks, and Harry noted that a little color in Malfoy's face improved his disposition greatly, and he didn't looked as menacing as before, even with the skittish and furtive glances he gave occasionally scanning the hall.

Harry concluded, as they trudged, Ron, Hermione, and him, off to the Gryffindor common room, that he was going to write a letter to Sirius, who had recently been cleared of all charges against him, and inform him of all the strange going-ons at Hogwarts already.

A few minutes later, after Harry had said goodnight to Ron and Hermione, and shed off his clothes, excepting his undershirt and boxers, he slipped into the warmth and comfort of his soft warm bed and the protection of the oblivion of sleep.



Draco Malfoy's four-poster Bed:
Slytherin Boy's Dormitories


Draco tossed and turned in his sleep, mumbling incoherent words, if they were words, and moaning. To some, it would have appeared that he was having a nightmare, but Draco Malfoy never had nightmares, no way. Draco Malfoy had plagues of what was beyond nightmares. You know the ones that happen if you never wake up in a nightmare, if you never scream out, if you've seen the face of pure evil. And Draco had. And that was where his nightmare later chose to lead him.