Only took me just over a month to get this out... *looks around sheepishly* Well I did say I wouldn't work on it as much as More to Life, right? I'm sorry it's shorter than the last chapter but it seemed right to end it there.

Thank you to bobby, TsukiBlue, The Shadow Bandit, Usually Immaculate Aristocrat, Kimmy15, Slice and 14badeggs for reviewing and thanks to anyone who has read the story but hasn't reviewed.

Again don't expect anything fast with this story. As much as I enjoy writing it I still need to get out chapters of More to Life.

Chapter Two

Hold on
If you feel like letting go
Hold on
It gets better than you know
Good Charlotte – Hold On

Six year old Harry Potter quietly placed his knife and fork down on his plate, trying to ignore the glare his Uncle gave him.

"Can't you be any quieter boy?" he snarled dangerous.

"Sorry, Uncle Vernon," the dark haired boy muttered.

Harry looked back at his Uncle, to his plate, to Dudley, who was still stuffing his face full of food. He sighed and worked up the courage to ask his Uncle what he had wanted to for a few months now.

He closed his eyes and spoke. "Uncle Vernon" He stopped and steeled himself up to ask. "What exactly happened to my parents?" He tried to put it as nice as he could so his Uncle wouldn't get too mad with him. He still did though.

His huge Uncle spluttered a little before speaking. "How dare you ask that, boy!?"

"Sorry Uncle Vernon," Harry said quickly. "I just wanted to…"

Vernon suddenly grinned. "You really want to know, boy?"

Harry nodded slowly, scared of the grin his Uncle had plastered across his face.

"The worthless fools got themselves killed in a car crash. That's where you got that hideous scar of your forehead from. Both of them were drunk at the time. Both of them worthless freaks."

Harry couldn't help but think there was more to it than that. "You're wrong," he whispered quietly.

"What boy?" Uncle Vernon said slowly.

"You're wrong!" Harry yelled out as he stood up sharply, making his chair scrap along the floor. "They weren't worthless freaks!"

Uncle Vernon raised an arm slowly and Harry cringed back in fear. Vernon smiled coldly. "Go to your room boy," he said in a tone that didn't really sound like him at all. This made Harry look up.

Harry did as he was told and made his way towards the kitchen doorway. He heard his Uncle's voice once more before he entered his cupboard.

"I'll think of your punishment later."

His Uncle did deliver his punishment later. A few cuffs behind the ear was all he got from his Uncle, but the man stood and watched as Dudley kicked, punched and scratched harder than any normal six year old ever could.

Harry didn't ask about his parents again after that.

"Harry?" a voice broke his retrieve.

Harry stopped staring at the flames in the fire of the Gryffindor Common room and looked towards the voice. "What Hermione?"

Hermione looked at him for a moment before she sighed. "Are you ok? I never saw you at the feast earlier."

Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes. "That's because I wasn't at the feast."

The Gryffindor girl looked as though she was going to break into a lecture, but thought better of it and just sighed, turning another page of the book she was reading.

"Where's Ron?" Harry asked, giving his watch a quick glance. Ten to Ten.

"Last time I saw him he was still stuffing his face in the Great Hall," she told him. "He's probably still there or in the kitchens. He seems to be hanging around with Neville more lately."

"Yeah," Harry answered absently, again looking at his watch. "I'm going for a walk."

"Again?" Hermione asked a little puzzled. "You just came back not long ago."

Harry just shrugged and stood up. He didn't notice his shirt sleeve ride down his arm just a little, enough to see the still angry red marks from earlier that night. Hermione noticed and let out a nearly inaudible gasp. Harry still heard her. He glanced at her and then glanced to where she was looking. Harry swore quietly and pulled his shirt sleeve back down and began to walk off.

"Harry-" Hermione began before she was cut off.

"I'll see you later," he snapped, exiting the Gryffindor common room.

"Harry, wait!" she shouted in return, but he didn't turn around. He walked as fast he could towards the Room of Requirement in case she was following him. He really wasn't looking forward to going back to Gryffindor later.

He walked into the room without really consciously thinking what he wanted the room to be. He must have thought of something because when he walked in the room was decked out in a mixture of Gryffindor gold and Slytherin green. He didn't take much notice of the décor and let himself fall into the nearest chair.

Harry didn't look around when he heard the door open and close a few minutes later. "You turned up then?" he asked.

Draco shrugged. "I told you earlier I had nothing else better to do."

"Still didn't think you would come. I mean we aren't exactly buddy-buddy, are we?" Harry closed his eyes and leaned further back in the comfy chair. "You've changed."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Have I?" he said, totally uninterested. "Maybe I've always been like this and you've never noticed?"

"It's hard to notice with all the sarcastic comments and nasty words you always send our way," Harry said.

Draco grinned. "What can I say? I live to torment."

"I'll say," Harry muttered.

"You know you'd miss it if I stopped."

"It'd make life a hell of a lot easier if you stopped."

"Not true."

Harry growled. "It bloody would!"

Draco just looked at Harry a little amused. "Are we going to argue about this all night?"

"I wouldn't mind. Anything to stop me going back to Gryffindor," Harry muttered.

Draco sat himself down in the chair opposite Harry's. "And why's that?"

"Hermione saw… something she shouldn't have before I left to come here," he told him, his eyes flickering to his wrist as he spoke.

"And you'd rather not tell her why you did it?" Draco asked.

"Well duh," Harry said sarcastically. "I'd rather not tell you either."

"So don't," Draco told him. "I don't care either way." He leaned further back in the chair, pulled his legs up and sat crossed legged, his elbows resting on his knees.

Harry sighed. "I have to tell someone, it's…"

"Eating you alive? Pulling you down? Getting out of control?"

"All of the above," Harry said with a weak smile. "Why are you even talking to me? All we ever do is throw insults at each other."

"We're at war Potter," Draco said a little warily. "Things change. Things change when people see other people trying to off themselves."

Harry stayed quiet for a while, thinking about what Draco had told him. He had to admit, if he had seen Malfoy trying to kill himself it'd change things between them. He'd try his very hardest to see why he'd tried in the first place. He assumed that was what Malfoy was trying to do to him. He sighed.

"You want to know why I did it then?" he asked quietly.

Draco shrugged again. "I wouldn't mind," he said in a dismissive tone.

Harry nearly smiled. He knew that Draco wanted to know why, but by acting like he didn't care it seemed to make it easier to actually tell him.

"It's a number of things really," he began quietly. He looked up at Draco to see the blonde Slytherin staring back at him. He looked down at his feet dangling off the end of the huge chair. "Two people close to me have d-died in the last two years. As well as that, there's this prophecy…"

"A prophecy?" Draco echoed.

Harry nodded. "About how I'm supposed to be the one to kill Voldemort. That or he kills me"

"Who made it?" Draco asked.

Harry pulled a face. "Trelawney."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "And everyone believed her?"

"According to Dumbledore it was a proper prediction and she has made them before."

"Really?" the blonde asked in disbelief.

Harry nodded. "I still remember this off by heart for some reason, even though it was four years ago. 'The Dark Lord lies alone and friendless, abandoned by his followers. His servant has been chained these twelve years. Tonight, before midnight, the servant will break free and set out to rejoin his master. The Dark Lord will rise again with his servant's aid, greater and more terrible than ever before.' It was after Divination, everyone else was gone and she just went into this trance. That was the night when Ron's rat turned out to be Peter Pettigrew in his animagus form. He ran off and a year later Voldemort came back." Harry once again looked up at Draco. "That's why I kind of believe it. If I kill him what does that make me? No one seems to care that killing him makes me a murderer. I just want to rule my own life for once…" he trailed off.

Draco thought about how to word his answer before he spoke. "Dumbledore killed Grindelwald. Does that make him a murderer?"

Harry didn't answer. He never thought about it that way before, but somehow it wasn't making him feel better.

"It won't make you a murderer Harry," Draco said quietly.

"I'm not Dumbledore though," Harry said equally quiet. "I don't even know if I could do it. If I don't I'm as good as dead anyway." He pulled his legs up to his chest. "Might as well end my life on my own terms instead of on Voldemort's."

"He won't win."

Harry looked a little surprised. "What?"

"He won't win. Why do you think I'm still at school instead of kissing his robes?" Draco said in an amused tone to try and lighten the mood ever so slightly.

Harry chuckled a little.

"There's something else bothering you."

Harry leaned his head on his knees. "Maybe."

"You don't want to talk about it?"

"No," Harry whispered.

Harry closed his eyes and shivered a little as he remembered the vision he had had the night before. No matter how hard he practiced Occlumency every night it never stopped the visions, though Voldemort hadn't tried to send him a fake one ever since fifth year. Voldemort probably thought that no matter how stupid the Boy Who Lived was he still wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

Harry knew he wouldn't.

The rain fell quietly over a small rural settlement that appeared to only consist of around ten reasonable sized houses. Harry didn't know how he knew, but he knew that most of the people there appeared to be magical.

He was slowly making his way towards the settlement when something caught his eye. There was someone walking next to him.

A Death Eater.

He couldn't see who it was because of the mask it was wearing. The Death Eater obviously said something, but for some reason Harry couldn't pick up what was said.

"Everyone," was the words that came from Harry's mouth, or Voldemort's. He had a sneaky suspicion what that was in reference to.

The Death Eater next to Harry then rose it's wand in the air and mumbled a few words. Almost immediately the Dark Mark rose up into the sky.

And then it began.

Doors burst open; curses flew through the air. Screams filled the seemingly quiet place; cries were heard of the people who had already lost their loved ones, waiting for it to be their turn.

Harry wanted to close his eyes but couldn't. He saw the arm raised in front of him, pointed towards a very surprised, unsuspecting wizard. Harry could have sworn he had seen the man before. Green light burst from the end of the wand and struck the wizard down at once. The lifeless body hit the fall.

Then the vision ended.

Harry found out later that morning that the person he had seen die in front of his eyes was Arnold Peasgood. Harry had probably seen him in passing once in his life. It always seemed more real if he had actually seen the person in normal every day life.

Harry felt a hand on his should and nearly jumped a mile. Through all his musing he had completely forgotten Draco was still there.

"Potter?" Draco said in a tone that was so unlike what Harry was used t from him.

The dark haired boy looked over his shoulder to see Draco kneeling on the same chair he was sat on, an odd look in his eye that Harry though could nearly pass as compassion. He normally hated compassion, but coming from the one boy who Harry had thought hated him until tonight, it seemed different. Like he actually understood what Harry was going through, even though there was no way he could. The weight of the world that he carried on his shoulders seemed to recede just a little.

Harry felt something trickle down his cheek; a tear. He wiped it away and gazed at his damp finger. That was funny, he never cried. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he had cried.

Another tear followed the last.

Harry didn't even take notice when Draco gently pushed Harry's head to his shoulder. Harry carried on crying silent tears and Draco ran a hand through the Gryffindor's hair. None of them seemed to notice what they were doing; either that or they simply didn't care anymore.

Someone's feeling lonely
But I know you never will
Cause when it all gets too much
Put your head down on my shoulder
A little warmth when it gets colder
Now I don't know the things that you're going through
But you can put your head down
On my shoulder
Where the storm is it blows over
I know you're there for me too
No I'll be there for you
Westlife – On My Shoulder