Prologue
Harry threw his suitcase on the floor and placed Hedwig on the table before crashing onto the rickety old hotel room bed. 'I'm going to fall asleep in my classes if this keeps up,' Harry thought. He had not slept well the past few weeks. He had been having weird dreams and waking up every night around three or four. 'At least I got a bit of studying done.' He did not remember the beds at the Leaky Cauldron being this comfortable in the past. He felt sleep begin to envelop him.
"Harry... Harry...." A young girl's voice called.
"Harry Potter is a mudblood lover!" Draco called.
"Harry is nice!" The girl yelled.
"And where does nice get you? Absolutely nowhere. Now go get me a glass of water."
"Okay Draco..."
An image of a young girl. Is it the young girl who keeps calling him? A girl with knee length wavy golden hair, huge blue eyes, long eyelashes and pink cheeks that stand out on her pale skin. She is in a field of flowers in a sky blue dress and two blue bows in her flowing hair. She picks a flower and runs to give it to her friend, a boy... A boy older than her. She seems to be six or seven, he is.... Familiar. White blond hair, blue eyes... Draco. Around second year Draco. But how could this be him? He is smiling. Not smirking, smiling. As if he is... happy. This is not Draco. This is some alien human. The girl gives the flower to Draco-like-human.
She speaks. "For daddy! Have your daddy give it to daddy!"
Draco-like-human replies, "Of course, Endora. This is such a pretty flower. It is almost as pretty as you." He smiled.
She giggled.
"It is a violet! But it isn't as pretty as you!"
Draco-like-human laughs. "I am not supposed to be pretty, I'm a boy."
"Boys can be pretty. Your daddy is pretty. Mr. Snape is pretty," She raised her eyebrows.
Malfoy laughed for a long time, then stated between laughs, "How, may I ask, is Snape, of all people, pretty?"
Endora frowned. "He is pretty! His hair is long and dark and his eyes are dark and hurting. He is like pain painted in the form of a man."
"All right, okay." He stifled his laughter. "If you say so. You are the artist, not me."
"I know. And I'm going to paint a new picture soon."
"Really, of what?"
"Of a boy. He is hurting. He has lost all he has ever called family. He does not believe in a future. He sees no such thing as light. But he is full of a power, of a light, unknown to him, but rising to the surface each and every day....."
"What will you name her?" A voice that sent shudders down his back asked.
"Her name is Endora. It's Greek. The fountain of light." A woman with a rich, soothing yet ethereal voice said.
Again the cold voice. "I will do all I can." A time of silence. A door closes. He speaks once more. "Fountain of light?"
Harry awoke in a cold sweat. He sat up and rested his arms on his pulled up knees. Again, that girl. Who is she? What is she? '.....A fountain of light,' he thought.