Disclaimer: I don't own anyone from the Harry Potter series, only J.K.
Rowling does. I own all my own creations and my plot. Sort of. XD
Author's Note: Hope you like it! Tell me what you think! It's not that good, and I'm sorry, but.. . I'm not sure if I'm going to continue this, so leave a note or two. And yes, this will be Draco/Harry. Don't like it, don't read it.
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A Broken Yesterday
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Prologue: Collapsed
---
Harry could still remember the day they took him away.
Away from humanity.
He could still remember the butter beer on his lips. The sweet, sweet taste that could not help put but a smile on his face. How content he had felt. He could still remember how endlessly he thought his happiness would last.
He was wrong.
After the defeat of Voldemort, Harry had been taking some time off for himself. Reporters and admirers were here and there and everywhere, exaggerating his every movement. Always asking questions, how it went, how it felt, and every now and then there was the slight suspicion of Harry turning evil himself. True, it often got incredibly annoying, but he learned to get used to it. He learned to avoid all the attention to the best of his ability.
However, his ability didn't always go as smooth as he planned.
---
It had been a smoky day.
The clouds had been thick with rain and the air was heavy and musty. Lights had been dimmed around six o'clock. Everyone was feeling tired. Especially the Boy-Who-Lived.
Harry stretched his arms as he walked lazily down the street. Today seemed extremely slow, and even Harry could not break away from the pattern. Something wasn't right, but almost no one seemed to notice. After all, we all have our bad days..
He tilted his head when he saw a glowing light around the corner. It seemed to burst out amongst the dull colors and the faded lights. Curiosity got the better of Harry, and softly, he leaned against the wall, his ears sharp, listening for the slightest sounds.
"Why do you insist on being such an irritation? You know yourself, that with a flick of my wand, you could be writhing in your own blood."
"You and I both know that's not true."
"Why Harry let you go in the first place, I don't know. But I won't be as merciful as I was last time. *I* won't let you go." Harry blinked. Sirius? Pettigrew? He thought Pettigrew was dead... He thought he had died with Voldemort... But...
"Last time I was unprepared, Sirius.. I still have a few spells up my sleeve.."
"Oh, really? Don't send me to the grave shaking, Peter. I'm drowning in fear." Harry heard a dark chuckle.
"Mock me all you want, Sirius. But I am not the one that was imprisoned inside Azkaban for a crime I didn't do." There was no response.
"Don't you just want to kill me, Sirius? Sure, people hate me *now,* but *now* they think I'm DEAD. But I'm not dead, am I? After all I've done, after all the betrayal and pain I've caused, I'm still alive and kicking. Don't you just want to rip me to shreds? Don't you want to watch me bleed?" Harry heard Sirius clear his throat, and take a few steps forward.
"Yes. I want to kill you. I want to tear you to shreds with my bare fingers while your hot blood trickles down my arms. I want to rip out your heart and watch it die in my hands. But I won't. Why? Because I am the better man here. I am not the traitorous rat who left his friends in the time of their direst needs. I am not a mindless coward who runs whence in battle. I am Sirius Black." Harry smiled, and was about to turn on his heel, was about to go home, when-
"Don't you move, Sirius! Don't you DARE walk away from me." Harry stopped. What in the world was going on?
"Too long, I have been weak. Too long, I have been without power. But the other day, after the Dark Lord was conquered by Harry Potter, I felt this wondrous surge of magic flow through my entire body!"
"Peter, you're insane."
"But Sirius! You don't understand. You don't know the things I can do, the things I can make. I set a Sloth spell on the entire town today, and haven't you noticed?! It worked!" Harry's eyes widened. So -that- was it. -That- was the cause of the lethargic essence that had seemed to swallow the town and its inhabitants. Pettigrew had gotten bored and started making his own spells. But to do that, you'd have to be so powerful for it to actually work..
"I was not affected by your little spell. I'm wide awake as I'll ever be, so-"
"I didn't want it to affect you, Sirius! Don't you know what I want?" A cackle flowed through the air, and Harry shook his head. This wasn't the mere Peter Pettigrew he had encountered before. This was something else. Something more intense.
"When it was the time of my Lord's demise, my friend, something happened to me. I had been so connected to him for so long, letting him feed and grow off of my body and soul, his aura must been transferred to me in some seemingly miraculous way. Sirius, I'm probably almost as powerful as he was! The Dark Lord! Me! Powerful!" Harry heard a low, solemn chuckle.
"Are you comparing yourself to Voldemort, Peter? Little, meek, Peter? I doubt you have all that power. I bet Voldemort is still lurking around somewhere, and is living inside of you at this very moment, using you like a mere puppet."
"But he is living inside of me, Sirius. Haven't you been listening to what I have been saying? I'm Peter Pettigrew and the Dark Lord, rolled into one! Might as well call me Petermort!" Harry heard another bone-chilling laugh scratch through the quiet surroundings, and was starting to feel uneasy. Had Peter lost his mind?
"You're not Peter. You're not Voldemort. You're nothing. Nothing does not scare me, fool. Nothing does not scare the world." Harry felt an aggravated gasp come from Peter, whose voice was rising louder and louder..
"Sirius! One day, people will be afraid to say MY name. One day, people will tremble in their boots when they hear about the things I do, the people I kill. But no one will remember you, Sirius Black. No one will miss you.. AVADA KEDAVRA!" Harry jumped. No, no, not Sirius! He felt himself sprint around the corner, and suddenly, had a sinking feeling that maybe he shouldn't have.
But no matter, he did not regret it.
He saw his godfather get swallowed by a green light, and ran to him, only to be hit away by a blast from the end of Peter's wand. He saw Sirius Black fall to the ground in a heap, helpless and shattered, by two words that were so very little, but so very dangerous. Sirius reached out to Harry, who had run to his side, wanting it to not be true, wanting for everything to be a nightmare..
"Ah, if it isn't the famous Harry Potter. I must say, thank you for these powers! They're quite nice and everything feels just right, don't you think?" Harry gritted his teeth, and raised his wand.
"Shut up. I don't want to hear it.."
"And I must thank you again from letting me live, and when I rule the world, I will tell the universe that it was you - Harry Potter, the Boy-Who- Lived, the young hero, the Golden Child-" As Peter trailed on, Harry felt an uncontrollable rage bubble inside of him. Peter killed his mother, his father, and now his godfather, the one man that Harry had left to look up to as a father. Peter had snatched him away from Harry's fingers, and Harry wanted snatch life away from Peter's own.. His eyes were so blinded with rage, with anger, with nothing more than the lust and the want to kill..
"You will PAY! AVADA KEDA-"
"Harry Potter!" Harry turned to see Rita Skeeter and a band of journalists running gradually after her. What were THEY doing here? How long have they BEEN there? Harry turned once again to see that in those few seconds of surprise, he had let Peter get away....
"Oh my dear lord! He killed him!"
"Murder?!"
"Harry Potter?!?!"
"Harry, why did you do this?" Harry blinked. Did they, no, they couldn't be suggesting....
"What? Wait, this is all a misunderstanding-"
"Notify the authorities." Someone muttered.
"No, no, I didn't kill him, Peter Pettigrew did!"
"Peter Pettigrew's dead, jerk-off! Stop lying! I knew you were evil all along!"
"Yeah!"
"Yeah!"
Harry was aghast. How could they even THINK about Harry doing that? Kill his own godfather? Why would he do that?! And why did Peter do that? Why was Harry to blame? Hadn't he defeated Voldemort, hadn't he done enough to prove himself?
And in between thoughts, he turned to see Sirius's body on the ground. Mangled and disfigured. He looked so unpeaceful, so solemn, Harry felt himself collapsing.
He felt himself cry.
And when a group of wizards and dementors came to take him away, he did not protest. For it was his fault. He had let Peter go years before, and he had allowed Peter to have gained so much power..
He killed his godfather.
It was all his fault.
---
Author's Note: Hope you like it! Tell me what you think! It's not that good, and I'm sorry, but.. . I'm not sure if I'm going to continue this, so leave a note or two. And yes, this will be Draco/Harry. Don't like it, don't read it.
---
A Broken Yesterday
---
Prologue: Collapsed
---
Harry could still remember the day they took him away.
Away from humanity.
He could still remember the butter beer on his lips. The sweet, sweet taste that could not help put but a smile on his face. How content he had felt. He could still remember how endlessly he thought his happiness would last.
He was wrong.
After the defeat of Voldemort, Harry had been taking some time off for himself. Reporters and admirers were here and there and everywhere, exaggerating his every movement. Always asking questions, how it went, how it felt, and every now and then there was the slight suspicion of Harry turning evil himself. True, it often got incredibly annoying, but he learned to get used to it. He learned to avoid all the attention to the best of his ability.
However, his ability didn't always go as smooth as he planned.
---
It had been a smoky day.
The clouds had been thick with rain and the air was heavy and musty. Lights had been dimmed around six o'clock. Everyone was feeling tired. Especially the Boy-Who-Lived.
Harry stretched his arms as he walked lazily down the street. Today seemed extremely slow, and even Harry could not break away from the pattern. Something wasn't right, but almost no one seemed to notice. After all, we all have our bad days..
He tilted his head when he saw a glowing light around the corner. It seemed to burst out amongst the dull colors and the faded lights. Curiosity got the better of Harry, and softly, he leaned against the wall, his ears sharp, listening for the slightest sounds.
"Why do you insist on being such an irritation? You know yourself, that with a flick of my wand, you could be writhing in your own blood."
"You and I both know that's not true."
"Why Harry let you go in the first place, I don't know. But I won't be as merciful as I was last time. *I* won't let you go." Harry blinked. Sirius? Pettigrew? He thought Pettigrew was dead... He thought he had died with Voldemort... But...
"Last time I was unprepared, Sirius.. I still have a few spells up my sleeve.."
"Oh, really? Don't send me to the grave shaking, Peter. I'm drowning in fear." Harry heard a dark chuckle.
"Mock me all you want, Sirius. But I am not the one that was imprisoned inside Azkaban for a crime I didn't do." There was no response.
"Don't you just want to kill me, Sirius? Sure, people hate me *now,* but *now* they think I'm DEAD. But I'm not dead, am I? After all I've done, after all the betrayal and pain I've caused, I'm still alive and kicking. Don't you just want to rip me to shreds? Don't you want to watch me bleed?" Harry heard Sirius clear his throat, and take a few steps forward.
"Yes. I want to kill you. I want to tear you to shreds with my bare fingers while your hot blood trickles down my arms. I want to rip out your heart and watch it die in my hands. But I won't. Why? Because I am the better man here. I am not the traitorous rat who left his friends in the time of their direst needs. I am not a mindless coward who runs whence in battle. I am Sirius Black." Harry smiled, and was about to turn on his heel, was about to go home, when-
"Don't you move, Sirius! Don't you DARE walk away from me." Harry stopped. What in the world was going on?
"Too long, I have been weak. Too long, I have been without power. But the other day, after the Dark Lord was conquered by Harry Potter, I felt this wondrous surge of magic flow through my entire body!"
"Peter, you're insane."
"But Sirius! You don't understand. You don't know the things I can do, the things I can make. I set a Sloth spell on the entire town today, and haven't you noticed?! It worked!" Harry's eyes widened. So -that- was it. -That- was the cause of the lethargic essence that had seemed to swallow the town and its inhabitants. Pettigrew had gotten bored and started making his own spells. But to do that, you'd have to be so powerful for it to actually work..
"I was not affected by your little spell. I'm wide awake as I'll ever be, so-"
"I didn't want it to affect you, Sirius! Don't you know what I want?" A cackle flowed through the air, and Harry shook his head. This wasn't the mere Peter Pettigrew he had encountered before. This was something else. Something more intense.
"When it was the time of my Lord's demise, my friend, something happened to me. I had been so connected to him for so long, letting him feed and grow off of my body and soul, his aura must been transferred to me in some seemingly miraculous way. Sirius, I'm probably almost as powerful as he was! The Dark Lord! Me! Powerful!" Harry heard a low, solemn chuckle.
"Are you comparing yourself to Voldemort, Peter? Little, meek, Peter? I doubt you have all that power. I bet Voldemort is still lurking around somewhere, and is living inside of you at this very moment, using you like a mere puppet."
"But he is living inside of me, Sirius. Haven't you been listening to what I have been saying? I'm Peter Pettigrew and the Dark Lord, rolled into one! Might as well call me Petermort!" Harry heard another bone-chilling laugh scratch through the quiet surroundings, and was starting to feel uneasy. Had Peter lost his mind?
"You're not Peter. You're not Voldemort. You're nothing. Nothing does not scare me, fool. Nothing does not scare the world." Harry felt an aggravated gasp come from Peter, whose voice was rising louder and louder..
"Sirius! One day, people will be afraid to say MY name. One day, people will tremble in their boots when they hear about the things I do, the people I kill. But no one will remember you, Sirius Black. No one will miss you.. AVADA KEDAVRA!" Harry jumped. No, no, not Sirius! He felt himself sprint around the corner, and suddenly, had a sinking feeling that maybe he shouldn't have.
But no matter, he did not regret it.
He saw his godfather get swallowed by a green light, and ran to him, only to be hit away by a blast from the end of Peter's wand. He saw Sirius Black fall to the ground in a heap, helpless and shattered, by two words that were so very little, but so very dangerous. Sirius reached out to Harry, who had run to his side, wanting it to not be true, wanting for everything to be a nightmare..
"Ah, if it isn't the famous Harry Potter. I must say, thank you for these powers! They're quite nice and everything feels just right, don't you think?" Harry gritted his teeth, and raised his wand.
"Shut up. I don't want to hear it.."
"And I must thank you again from letting me live, and when I rule the world, I will tell the universe that it was you - Harry Potter, the Boy-Who- Lived, the young hero, the Golden Child-" As Peter trailed on, Harry felt an uncontrollable rage bubble inside of him. Peter killed his mother, his father, and now his godfather, the one man that Harry had left to look up to as a father. Peter had snatched him away from Harry's fingers, and Harry wanted snatch life away from Peter's own.. His eyes were so blinded with rage, with anger, with nothing more than the lust and the want to kill..
"You will PAY! AVADA KEDA-"
"Harry Potter!" Harry turned to see Rita Skeeter and a band of journalists running gradually after her. What were THEY doing here? How long have they BEEN there? Harry turned once again to see that in those few seconds of surprise, he had let Peter get away....
"Oh my dear lord! He killed him!"
"Murder?!"
"Harry Potter?!?!"
"Harry, why did you do this?" Harry blinked. Did they, no, they couldn't be suggesting....
"What? Wait, this is all a misunderstanding-"
"Notify the authorities." Someone muttered.
"No, no, I didn't kill him, Peter Pettigrew did!"
"Peter Pettigrew's dead, jerk-off! Stop lying! I knew you were evil all along!"
"Yeah!"
"Yeah!"
Harry was aghast. How could they even THINK about Harry doing that? Kill his own godfather? Why would he do that?! And why did Peter do that? Why was Harry to blame? Hadn't he defeated Voldemort, hadn't he done enough to prove himself?
And in between thoughts, he turned to see Sirius's body on the ground. Mangled and disfigured. He looked so unpeaceful, so solemn, Harry felt himself collapsing.
He felt himself cry.
And when a group of wizards and dementors came to take him away, he did not protest. For it was his fault. He had let Peter go years before, and he had allowed Peter to have gained so much power..
He killed his godfather.
It was all his fault.
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