-rhanx for the reviews, especially 'Portkey's, it made me laugh a lot. Because he/or she does have a point, but if you think about it, everything is cliche and in its own way terrible because in stories, every plotline has been done, every joke has been made, everything has bee done before, it's only been recycled a billion and 4.3 times already, so I got no problem with it.

But, like I intend to listen to him/her/it (whichever your preferance) I hardly listen to anyone these days and don't intend to start now sooooo sod off and go read some fluffy cheesenoodles or something, maybe your just too goody-goody for all the not-so-nice sides of humanity.

Besides, in most abusive situations in this fanfiction, (I write from my own personal experiances) -.- *nods* only way to get shite like that down as emotionally traumatizing as possible *nods again*

And for every other cheerful review, thanks and spanks to you all... ^.~ (sorry boys and girls I only swing that way on Tuesdays and Thursdays, 5-6 and Sunday from 12-4)

On with the show-

To Posses the Light

Chapter 2: Blood on My Shirt, Hope No One Can See It

Pulling the sleeves back from his bandaged wrists he glanced down at the bloodied white bandages; he'd have to learn a few more healing spells and then use them as soon as he set foot on Hogwarts, he didn't want scars on his body to remind him of the Dursleys, the ones he had on his soul were burden enough.

-

"Remember *boy* every family has its secrets, so keep quiet!" Vernon snapped, grabbing Harry by the throat and dragging him bodily out of the car.

"-yes Uncle Vernon." Harry rasped out from his now bruised throat; 'good thing I chose to wear a turtle-neck...'

As fast as he could, Harry pulled his things out of the trunk and placing them on the cart; the loud, puttering engine to the Dursleys car speeding away, leaving him in a cloud of dust.

With a breathless sigh he bent over to pick up his trunk; grasping the side handle Harry pulled upwards; he froze, feeling and hearing the unmistakable rip of flesh, a bolt of pain sliced across his back, and then warm liquid oozed through the dirty bandages, soaking his shirt.

He bit down on his lip, frozen in place to prevent further damage and to wait out the throbbing pain that appeared shortly after the first wave; he inhaled a long, slow breath, holding it to prevent the choking gasp from escaping his lips. He didn't need anyone to se him weak right now.

"Harry! Oh it's so good to see you again!" Hermione called over the crowd, rushing to his side, hugging him around the middle.

Harry gasped sharply, snapping upright and shoving Hermione away, swiftly glancing at her clothes to see if she had any of his blood on her; he didn't see any, for the first time, a good sign.

"What's wrong?" She asked suddenly, a bit stung at his actions.

"Oh nothing Hermione, I was just so surprised to see you!" Harry smiled cheerily, sucking in a deep breath and giving her a brief hug to smooth away any doubts.

She smiled and nodded understandingly, "Here let me help you, these trunks are always so heavy!" Hermione remarked, bending over and lifting it onto the cart, Harry gawked.

Don't get me wrong, he could've easily have lifted it, but Hermione! She was like- bite-size! A shabby 5'6 at least! Not to mention she was more on the small petite side than anything else!

"Bloody hell Hermione! Never would've thought you could've done that without help." Harry grinned sheepishly, placing his backpack and hedwig on top of the trunk, pushing the cart alongside Hermione as they walked towards platform 9 & 3/4.

"Well your trunk was much lighter than mine so it really wasn't that hard, so stop gaping at me and lets go find Ron!" Hermione chided, waving aside Harry's astonishment.

If anyone should be surprised, it was her; for after all it wasn't everyday that you part with your friend for the summer at a measly height of 5'7 than have him returned to you at a good 6'1! On top of that his once rich, dark-brown hair had grown even more ragged, and had turned an astounding pitch-black; his body still seemed as undernourished as it often had been, but now their was some definate muscle tone in them . . . at that thought, Hermione recalled a similar body, though much more smoothly sculpted and as pale as the moon, bathed in a thin sheen of glittering sweat; bright silver eyes staring down upon her, a wicked smirk . . . breathy, haunting laughter . . . the morning after . . .

Hermione blushed a deep red, bringing her hand to her mouth, eyes suddenly downcast . . .

"Hey Hermione, theres Ron, why don't you go say 'hello' while I pack my things onto the train and go save us a compartment?" Harry smiled warmly.

"Er- That sounds great Harry, see you on the train!" Hermione perked up, bolting over towards the Weasleys.

The smile died instantly as soon as Hermione had left his side, turning to the train, he left his things with the luggage caretakers and strode carelessly onto the train, ignoring the smiling first years as they caught glimpses of his bloody lightning bolt-shaped scar.

He grunted in surpressed pain, a bulge of clean linen bandages pressing against his back leg in reminder that he needed to change his bandages and check his wounds for infection.

Slipping into an unoccupied compartment he slid the door shut and locked it. He glanced out the window to see Fred and George tossing a series a new, eight-legged gag inventions at a screaming Ron while Hermione seemed to be at a loss for words . . .

He'd have just enough time to change his bandages, he thought as he lifted his shirt-

"Well well well, a strip show, don't mind if I do." came the all too familiar voice of Draco Malfoy . . . he could've sworn he'd locked it.

"Something wrong Potter? Cat got your tongue? Or something *else* perhaps?" Malfoy questioned, advancing towards the slightly taller male he had all intentions of shagging.

Harry yanked his shirt back down and stepped backwards then sideways until he was in a corner; several vivid flashes of a large, bulky man towering over him, held high above his head, a wooden and splintered baseball bat . . .his eyes snapped open as he realized he was slowly yet surely sinking down into the corner.

He shook his head of the thoughts, standing abruptly and taking a few offensive steps forward.

But the abrupt movements brought a wave of dizziness and blurred vision, darkening before readjusting, "What do you want this time Malfoy...?" Harry spoke as he screwed his eyes shut . . . he'd left the pain killers in his back pack.

"Hmph, would've thought you'd finaly caught on after all this time," Draco sighed, ignoring the boy's earlier, somewhat absurd reaction to him, "I want *you* my loveliness." he purred, striding forward only to veer off to the right, brushing up against the taller male's side, his pale hand squeezing his thigh in the process.

Ignoring the obviousness that the 'Sex God' drive had already been activated . . .

He felt the blood trickly down his left wrist . . . not good.

"Malfoy . . ." Harry's voice sounded strained even to him, "Can you- *please* leave and go fuck someone *else*, I need to do something before it gets infec-" he snapped his mouth shut, averting his eyes, 'damnit, Harry thingk before you talk!' he screamed at himself.

"What do you need to do before what gets infected Potter?" Draco spoke, his curiousity piqued, Sex God mode on hold for the moment.

"*Nothing*! Forget I said anything and just leave!" Harry nearly begged, becoming desperate as he caught a glimpse of Ron and Hermione making their way onto the train . . .

"No, sorry lovely, but you'll have to tell me, and *show* me." Malfoy smirked.

"Fine! If you won't leave *I* will!" Harry snarled, stomping towards the compartment door, jerking it open; a hand gripped his shoulder firmly, fire surged, attacking his pain-wracked nerve-endings . . .

"Don't bloody-fucking touch me Malfoy!!" Harry roared in pain-guised as anger, shoving away the shocked Slytherin.

He let Potter rush down the small walkway on the train, closing the door with his hip; walking back to his spot he sat down, stretching his long legs out onto the seat in front of him.

Draco could hardly take his eyes off of his right hand, it was covered in blood, Potter's blood . . . hmm . . . now that he recollected partial bits of previous moments, he remembered the male's shirt, it was black, but it was darker in some areas, namely his back, shoulders, and random spots on his chest.

So much blood . . .

He brought one of his fingers to his thumb and sucked on it, the coppery liquid rolling down his tongue to make its way to his stomach; despite the natural, coppery flavor, it was tinged with a spicy-vanilla tang . . .

Draco began to lick the palm of his hand and then suck on each of his fingers as he continued to ponder . . .

Potter had blood on his shirt, clearly his own . . . hunh. Wonder her fucked him up?

Hmm . . .

Fuck . . .

He shook his head, not now. The blood . . .

"Oh! Is this *your* compartment?" a girls voice purred.

Draco sniffed the air absently, the vague scent of spcy-vanilla and green-apples filled his lungs, hmm . . . Potter . . . blood . . . hmm . . .

"Why, yes, yes it is . . ." Draco grinned.

"Well then let me keep you company." She smiled, closing the door with a soft 'click', she walked over to him, a swing in her hips which she believed to be attractive, but still . . . she would do . . . for now.

-Well, that just sounded all nice and shtuff, r/r people, and if you don't like this fic, then stop fuckin' reading it you bloody ponce. -