Title: Fated

Author: Miss T

Rating: R

Genre: Angst/Romance/Dark/Fluff/Muuuuuush!

Warnings: Slash, Character Death, Violence

Pairings: Draco/Harry

Timeline: 7th year

A/N: This is my first attempt at something a bit darker to my previous fics – its not incredibly dark right enough, but it does have death in it and a lot of violence and drug references so… *shrugs* oo, and some sexual situations between two guys. So if that offends you, don't read! Consider yourself warned! Oh, and this story has been based on a sort of Romeo/Juliet (mostly from the movie) romance type… thing. :)

A/N IMPORTANT!!!: Just a short chapter this time. But I HAVE to know this – how do you guys feel about ending it the original R+J way? I know a lot of you have asked me not to, and I personally feel that it wouldn't be good for the plot if I didn't. But I do have a few ideas hidden up my sleeve because I really don't want this story to end too quickly. So please let me know if you'd rather have it end the traditional way, or my own little (or long, as it may well could be) way… hehe cheers xoxox

CHAPTER 10 – Of Poison and Destiny

Harry didn't know how to drive. All he knew was that if you pressed your foot down on one of the pedals on the floor, the car would go faster – and to turn around you would use the steering wheel. He didn't know the first thing about gears. He learned this when the car unexpectedly stopped with a fiery jolt about 100 metres away from the entrance of Hogsmeade.

Grunting in frustration, Harry banged his palms hard onto the steering wheel before leaping out of the car and slamming the door shut violently, his long fringe of hair blowing into his eyes.

Giving the car another aggravated kick with the base of his shoe, Harry stumbled away from it and began jogging down the long pathway that lead the way down to Hogsmeade, panting feverishly, feeling tears and sweat mingle together on his face.

His heart rate increased rapidly, panging against his ribcage like a violin string ready to snap, and when he had finally stumbled into the main busy afternoon street of Hogsmeade, he could feel his vision ebb slightly, tiny stars dotting his sight here and there.

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Harry regained his posture by leaning against one of the lampposts at the side of the left rows of buildings, oblivious to the worried glares and glances from curious passers by. Clamping his eyes open, Harry let his vision scan across the many shops and buildings until his sight stopped abruptly at one shop in particular – Madame Seraphim's Potion Shop.

Taking a quickened pace across the road, Harry shoved his hands in his pockets as he entered the small dim-lit shop, and wrinkled his nose slightly at the strong smell of musk and rosewood that filled his nostrils, seeping up into his head and making him feel slightly dizzy. A faint choir of plunkety music wisped throughout the empty room, adding to the eerie effect it already possessed.

"Hello, young sir!" A wispy voice said from behind a rather large platformed desk, reminding Harry of a certain Professor Trelawney.

"What can I do you for?" The woman said, leaning over the desk and peering down at Harry. The middle aged woman's hair was pulled up into a curly bun above her head, with a few loose strands of red framing her thin face. She wore the same sort of peculiar clothes Trelawney fashioned, the same excessive use of bangles and noisy jewellery.

Harry looked around nervously, glancing at the tall shelves of trinkets galore, jars filled with iridescent substances, objects of unknown natures, thick dusty books of spells and potion making instructions. His eyes then skipped over to a small poster taped to the wall furthest away, of a beautiful goddess with the palest skin and hair… forcing back a desperate sob, Harry lurched forward and pounded his hands onto the desk, making Madame Seraphim jump suddenly.

"I need a potion." He panted frantically, his nostrils flaring. "I need a potion… a poison that will kill a man with one sip."

Madame Seraphim's eyes widened excessively, and she leaned forward over Harry. "Young man," She whispered, grasping onto the front of her own robes. "One does not meddle with the Dark Arts when one is clearly too young to understand."

Harry felt a sudden rush of anger fill his blood, his head was pounding to the quick. "I am NOT too young!" He hissed, slamming his knuckle onto the table, causing the jars on top of it to rattle.

Madame Seraphim eyed him suspiciously. "I'm afraid I can't help you. We have nothing of the sort held in this shop." She said coldly, turning away.

Harry banged his fist onto the desk again, causing one of the jars to jump and fall with a smash onto the ground. Madame Seraphim pursed her lips and continued to look away from him.

*Desperate times call for desperate measures.* Harry thought darkly to himself, pulling out a small pouch from his pocket.

The sudden gentle clatter of money on the desk made Madame Seraphim raise her eyebrows and turn around, glaring at the generous pile of galleons on her desk.

"It's all I have." Harry breathed, looking up at her pleadingly.

Glancing back up at Harry, Madame Seraphim sighed grudgingly and spread her palm across the ten or so galleons, pulling them towards her with a sharp scratch and putting them into the large pockets on the front of her robes. "Very well." She said sharply. Nodding her head towards the back of the shop, Madame Seraphim guided Harry towards a small room above some stairs, that seemed to be the store cupboard of the shop.

Endless rows of bottles filled the small cupboard, a single candle levitating through the middle of the room to emit light. Giving Harry a quick pensive look, Madame Seraphim exhaled through her nostrils as she reached over to the left side of the store room, pulling away what looked like a rather dusty jar of pins. Placing them down on the floor, she then reached behind the space where the jar once laid and produced a tiny vial of bright white potion, only about the size of Harry's forefinger, the circumference of a pencil.

Holding it up to the candle, Madame Seraphim glared at the swirling liquid and spoke distantly. "Drink this once, and if you have the strength of two wizards, you will still die under it's power." Glancing back at Harry's stunned but determined expression, she handed it gently to him, closing it inside his palm.

~~~*~~~

TBC