DEMENTED STONES

CHAPTER ONE: Butterfly Knives

Authors Note: Hem, hem. This is my first time ever writing a Harry Potter fiction like this one - so . . . if it sucks, don't blame me. Blame God. No - no - don't blame him. It was a joke . . . *nervous laugh* Well . . . okay, this is taking place in the groups seventh year at Hogwarts, and Ron is dead. I don't know if I said that yet or not . . . Oh and Reyan = Blaise, except I prefer Reyan better. . . . And // fgfbjbh \\ anything in that is a flashback unless I tell you otherwise!

Disclaimer: I own Harry Potter! J.K Rowling totally *stole* my idea!! . . . No, she didn't. I'm lying . . . I don't own Harry Potter. And don't try suing. You might get some gum . . .

Draco Malfoy walked into an empty classroom in the Hogwarts castle and locked the door behind him, a determined look on his face. He had brought a butterfly knife with him, and it seemed to throb with wanting. Use me, Draco, it cried, causing his heart beat to quicken suddenly.

This was finally going to be his end. He could feel it. He couldn't take life anymore.

// Draco walked outside and headed toward the lake with the giant squid, to study for his potions exam that was going to take place later that day, when suddenly, Reyan appeared. "'Lo, Draco, nice day, isn't it?" his voice was a pure sneer, and it was just filled with loathing and lust. It seemed to drip out of his pores. For Reyan, the one thing that made him lust Draco, was whenever he was hurting him. Whenever Draco was in pain.

"Fuckoff, Reyan, I'm not in the mood." but then again, he was always never in the mood. Reyan always wanted Draco. As his toy. As his slut. As his pet. And Draco had asked for more than he could handle, because once Reyan got a hold of you, he never let go.

"I am," he said, his lips brushing against Draco's ear, his hands resting themselves on Draco's thigh.

"Out *here*?! In front of all these people?" Draco exclaimed, though it was in a hushed voice so that only Reyan could hear him.

"If it was Potter you'd do it," Reyan purred, kissing Draco's temple.

At that moment Harry walked by, staring into the platinum blonde boy's eyes with a wounded gaze in them. His glance was intense, and his green eyes seemed to shine more than usual. "I love you, Malfoy," he had said, during their first night of love making. Draco left him after that, feeling it was for the best . . . And he got with Reyan, in high hopes of showing Harry he was over it. Over them. Over the relationship. But . . .

"No," Draco said, when Harry's back had turned. He leaned into Reyan's rough kiss, and felt himself grimacing from Reyan's tight grip on his leg. "Not for him . . ."

Reyan smiled. He was the only one who had known Draco was with Harry, and he had blackmailed Draco into staying with him, or the secret would get out, and the school would raise hell. "Let's go, then. Slytherin Common Room," he dragged Draco to his feet and pulled so quick and hard on his arm that it snapped slightly and then went numb. Reyan ignored it, so Draco did too.

"Reyan - no!" Draco said, but Reyan was older, he was stronger. He easily had Draco down into the Common Room and pushed up against the wall, Draco momentarily blacking out from the force at which his head had hit. I am Slytherin, he thought and Reyan changed his mind and straddled him on the chair. I should *want* this. But I don't. Maybe once . . . But he's not Potter . . . He was brought back from his thoughts as Reyan punched him across the face. \\

Draco took a deep breath. Reyan needs to burn in hell. That sick bastard.

He looked at the classroom for the first time he had been in it. The Charm's room . . . Me and Harry's first time was in here. He thought, a wave of depression washing over him.

// "I love you, Malfoy," glistening green eyes locked with his, his breathing speeding up - and he climaxed beneath Draco, with his words ringing through the empty room. \\

"I hate you, Potter," he said, picking up the butterfly knife, "I fucking hate you!" he knocked over a desk beside him, as his fury grew. "*You're* so famous and loved. And you want *me* when you know - when you *knew* that I couldn't ever say those words! You're *never* satisfied, are you? We could still be together, but *no* - no! You had to announce to *every - fucking - body* that I was open and then Reyan wanted me - and that's why -"

"Draco?" he squeezed the knife into his palm to hide it, and whirled around, surprised and embarrassed to see Harry in the doorway, a worried look on his face.

"How long have you been there?" Draco snapped.

"Not long . . . what's wrong with your hand?"

The blade Malfoy had been holding just cut into his skin and slowly the blood dripped to the floor. "I cut it," said Draco, bitterly, determined not to let the knife fall to the floor, no matter how hard it hurt. Through his years of mutilation, he was able to turn off most of the pain on his arms. Which was nothing to take pride in, for most people.

"Jeeze! Who beat you up?" Harry had just seen Draco's swollen face.

"You can thank Reyan Bratcher for the one," he said, smugly. "He likes to show his signs of affection. He goes a tad too far. Most people give nice, little hickeys. But not Reyan."

Harry calmly nodded, and Draco felt sweat forming on his upper lip, even though the room was chilly. "Draco. I meant what I said. And I could love you enough for the both of us. I mean - a year and a half - you don't want that to go down the drain do you? I -"

"Potter -" he began, but he was cut off.

"I mean, I treated you better than Reyan, right? You liked me more than *him*, right??" his voice was growing faster, breathy, almost urgent now.

Draco just stared hard into the boys eyes. Yes, I love you, I want you back. But I can't admit that I love you, Potter. Do you know how hard this is? God. Just hate me so I can *kill* myself, you ass. "Actually, Reyan's a lot better in the . . . *private* rooms, a *lot* better than you are, Harry."

Harry's eyes flickered. Draco had admitted to sleeping with another guy, and his voice was harsh - yet . . . he had said "Harry," . . . "Draco . . ."

"Leave, Potter. You are no longer welcomed around me. Reyan may get jealous."

Harry's eyes clouded over this time, but only for a second. "You're right," he said, his voice shallow and angry. "If *that's* how he treats you when he's *happy* I'd *hate* to see him pissed." He shoved his hands in his pockets and gave Draco one last look, before storming off.

Draco dropped the bloody blade on the floor, and sucked in breath through his teeth. the blood now pouring freely. I cannot wait until you hate me, Harry, And I'll make you. Somehow. And a single tear slid down his cheek as he cleaned up his mess.

A/N: It's short, yes, but work with me here! Oh - and - review!!