WHAA! I've done something I never thought nor wanted to do… it started with simple curiosity, very human but became… infatuation. Indeed, I once said that I would never consider reading Harry Potter fanfiction… I failed that. Then I promised myself that I wouldn't become obsessed or gush over it… heh, I gush. Finally, I vowed to the powers that be that I wouldn't, WOULD NOT EVER write Harry Potter fanfiction. I'll be damned.

Authors Notes: This story is a direct result of a conversation I had with myself and a picture I've had in my head, sorry. Please don't let my idiotic author's notes distract or deter you from the story; it's actually pretty cool I guess… My first ever (posted) serial. The rating will change if I decide to continue it, and it will be slash of course. Anyway, yes Tuxedo Jack, I'm well aware of the fact that Draco/Harry is completely implausible, damned near improbable but that's half the appeal ^_^. Also, I apologize for the crappy title, I really suck at those but… I dunno. If anyone has any suggestions, please… suggest them. Okay, that was stupid.

Disclaimers: I own naught Harry Potter, nor its characters. If an original character happens to pop up, it's probably not mine either. No one sue me, every work is based off of something else, this one probably more so than others. In any case, I have no money for a lawyer, a settlement, or even the money for gas so I can drive to court so… please don't sue. Thanks.

In Darkness Found, Light Revealed.

There was sniffling coming from a clearing; he could hear it with the uncanny abilities given to those of his kind. A low moan punctuated the sobbing, shattering against the trees and he shuddered with barely repressed desire and longing, echoing the noise. He would feed well tonight, feed on a tortured soul. They were always the best eating.

There was a figure slumped on a rock, looking for all the world like an abandoned doll, limbs limp at his sides, sprawled uncomfortably on the pine needle forest bed. He was not crying but making the valorous attempt to keep from doing so. His shoulders were shaking with suppressed sobs and his head hung low as he blinked away the threatening tears.

A twig snapped, resounding through the clearing like a gunshot and the boy's head snapped up in fear and surprised rage. His body was no longer limp, instead he was taut as a drum, standing poised and ready for action with a long stick in his right hand. "Who's there?!" He asked alarmed, though angry that someone would interrupt his misery.

The feeder did not respond; he felt no need to. Seeing the boy in this anguished state was thrilling him to the depths of his dark soul, arousing in him a cheap excitement that was hard to come by in these woods. "Who are you?!" The boy demanded.

The man continued watching.

The boy could feel the eyes on his skin, boring into him like scrutinizing lasers, striping him of his sanity. "I know you're there!" he screamed desperately, his unusually expressive eyes flashing in rage, "Make yourself known! Do something!"

The man did nothing.

"Lift me out of this or condemn me to the depths of hell but do something! Don't leave me here in purgatory!" The boy's voice reached an incredible crescendo, startling flocks of birds out of their nests as tears finally rolled down his cheeks. "I can feel you watching me! Do something, don't leave me to witness my own insanity!" His voice broke over the last syllable. "Please be real," the plea came out as a whisper, "please do something to let me know you're real."

The man stayed still and cold as death, unmoved by the desperation.

"But you're not real," the boy continued his broken diatribe, "you're just a figment of my imagination, and I've gone mad." Seemingly empty, the boy sunk to the forest floor, pine needles and loam catching in his clothing as he cried and sobbed, clutching his cloak around him like the arms of an absent parent.

The man spoke in chilling sibilance, like an icy breeze in the warm night, rattling the leaves of the trees and frightening the shaken boy, "Mars is bright tonight."

Again, the boy was taut and anticipant, staring at the figure that appeared before him. The bright moon light seemed to absorb into his skin, leeching away the peace keeping glow, and though the darkness of shadow surrounded him, he cast none. "Mars is very bright tonight."

The boy stood still, his face relaxed and his arms held steadfast to his sides. Whether petrified in terror or accepting of his fate, he did not flinch when the man reached out to run his twig like fingers over the skin of his face, nor did he shudder in revulsion when he was embraced by this strange and dark man. However the boy's magnificent eyes fluttered closed as the man touched his cold lips to his neck.

Afraid, docile, angry, in anguish, offended, accepting. The boy was all of those things, but above all, he was heartbroken as sharp bone pierced the flesh of his neck for he knew, he was doomed.

***

"Actually, it wasn't a bad movie." Hermione said intelligently, nodding as she spooned sugar into her tea.

"Not bad? NOT BAD! Hermione, that movie was awesome! I don't think I'll ever be able to wash with bar-soap again!" Exclaimed Dean Thomas with gusto, waving his hands excitedly and nearly spilling his breakfast.

"What Moo-V is this?"

"Ron, you really ought to take Muggle Studies, then you would know that it's pronounced 'movie'…" Hermione continued her lecture while Ron steadfastly ignored her.

"Fight Club." Harry said around a mouthful of bacon, he was amazingly hungry this morning. He'd woken up tired and thirsty so he guzzled down his morning coffee and was on his third mug. It was strange, he'd slept well, there were no nightmares plaguing him, in fact, he couldn't remember his dream, but he knew it was bizarre. Not classifiable as a nightmare, but definitely bizarre, now he was feeling distinctly carnivorous as he wolfed down his cholesterol-laden breakfast and listened to his friends exclaim over an American Muggle movie. "Frankly, I'm surprised you watched that Hermione."

"Why?" She asked affronted, then launched into another one of her famous lectures, "I found it fascinating, not only were there political agendas, but I think that abandoning one's frontal lobe and indulging the medulla oblongata is perfectly healthy. For a limited period of time of course, as we saw, operating solely on the sub conscious can be detrimental; everything in moderation."

Harry rolled his eyes because Ron looked like he'd been asked to recite bad Muggle poetry in German, "Madoola whattagolla? Wha?"

"Medulla Oblongata, Ron." Hermione continued her lecture, explaining in detail the purposes of the frontal lobe and the medulla oblongata. Ron did not fully understand the functions of the latter, so Harry said quite simply, "Fight or flight Ron. It controls the baser emotions."

"Oh."

"That's what I was saying!" Hermione announced, a bit louder than normal due to her frustration, and headed to Transfiguration in a huff.

At that precise moment, the blonde Slytherin otherwise known as Draco Malfoy strode into the Great Hall, looking for all the world as though he owned it. Harry growled low in his throat as Malfoy sent a few biting comments towards his friend, suddenly he wished he could indulge his medulla oblongata and tear the git apart. His tablemates looked sideways at him, confrontations between Malfoy and Hermione were as common and regular as the sun rising in the east, there was no reason for Harry to be so upset.

"Hey, mate, you all right?" Seamus asked gently, his voice dripping with concern and suspicion as he laid a hand on Harry's shoulder.

The other boy jerked away and glared heatedly at Seamus for a split second before his glare became a grin. "Yup. I'm fine."

"All right then… remember, we've got Transfiguration in ten minutes." Seamus felt dizzy, he could have sworn Harry's eyes were just… no, maybe it was a trick of the light; after all, it had only been for a second, but…. Harry's eyes were red.

Post story Author's notes: I know I know, Fight Club. Great movie, terrible plot device but the whole "medulla oblongata" stuck with me. Anyway, I read this wonderful fic recently that mentioned in passing the movie Fight Club (which I also do not own), and because my English teachers have instilled in me a great fear of plagiarism, so I'm citing it, read it it's incredible. Anyway, the fic is called Blood & Nails by Calmardaa, I'm telling you, that story is so good I was… well I was floored. Share the love. ^_~