Authoress Ramble: Hello, darlings. This is the rewritten version, so I hope you'll have patience with the rather slow writing.
Disclaimer: I am not JRK, nor am I trying to be. No profit is made, blah, blah, blah, blah - having fun?
Warnings:
THIS
STORY CONTAINS MALES LOVING MALES
- DO NOT LIKE? DO NOT READ!
If
you want to flame me, I'll have Snape answering all the flames. I'm
sure he'll be thrilled to know that you didn't read the warning-label
on page 1 of Dragon's and their Blood in Potionbrewing.
Spoils books one through five.
Dream Issues
Grey eyes widened in shock as a green light shot out from the tip of a wand. The body fell limp to the ground and a pair of red eyes turned towards him, aiming the wand at his heart -
A boy whimpered slightly and turned, nestling under the sheets. He buried his head under his pillow as if it would keep all the memories and nightmares away. Slowly, he relaxed back into sleep and into his dreams.
'Come on! You can do better than that!' called a
familiar voice filled with maddening laughter. A man dodged a jet of
red light, but the next one hit him and he stumbled. He fell for an
eternity -
Surprise was etched on his face -
His back arched
graciously -
Then time suddenly moved too quickly. He touched the
surface of something black, disappearing behind it. He should have
shown up on the other side, but there was nothing. Nothing. Noth
-
'No!'
The boy woke himself by screaming into the pillow. Tears gathered in his eyes as he scrambled to his feet, rushing to the window, flinging it open so fast it hit the wall. For a moment, he hung limp like a dummy, the windowsill digging into his midriff.
It rained heavily, water turning the street into a small river, drenching his pyjamas in mere seconds. By sheer willpower alone he managed to get control of his breathing and the water on his face slowly turned from salty tears to sweet summer rain. He returned to the bed, leaning against the wall and staring unseeingly through the open window at the heavy curtains of rain swayed back and forth in the wind. A large white owl soared in through the window, her wings making small droplets of water fly across the room. She sat on his lap and nibbled his earlobe affectionately. He patted her mechanically. The darkness made them look ghostlike; her white feathers were silvery and his emerald eyes were devoid of all feelings. His cheeks where covered in hollow shadows, and his hair melted into the darkness.
A few minutes later his eyes filled with rage and the hand petting the owl had stopped. She unfolded her large wings and flew the short distance to her cage. At once the boy rose and opened the wardrobe, glaring at the mirror within. Damp black hair was lifted aside to reveal a lightning bolt-shaped scar on his forehead. I once liked that bloody scar. Now it's only in my way.
Looking round the small room he found nothing but the owl and the reflection of himself to glare at.
'I can't even sleep anymore,' he whispered hoarsely to himself. 'Can't anything about me be normal for once?'
The owl seemed to yawn and roll her eyes at this, though it went unnoticed by the furious teenager. Grumpily he flopped down on the bed again. He stared into thin air a moment before hitting his head against the pillow.
'I killed them, didn't I? I failed to live up to that stupid hero title. Who came up with it anyway? Whoever it is, he must be daft.'
Once again he glared at the room and returned to hitting his head against the pillow, this time harder. Several thumps later he sighed and turned to face the wall, slipping into the uneasy slumber he had become used to.
It was cold. Really cold. His body felt slim, strong, the floor scratching his belly. Hunger ravaged his veins but his Master was calling. Moving forward over the uneven floor -
A giant snake crept out of the shadows and whimpering noises came from behind him. He smirked and watched the two white-blond men who stood close to the wall. Glee filled him when he watched the younger one. Both of them bowed deeply.
'We are here, Master.' said the elder of the two.
'How nice of you to stop by, Lucius.' He wheezed back. The snake seated itself between his legs. 'Any news?'
'Nothing, My Lord. It seems as though Fudge has begun to listen to Dumbledore. He's harder to convince, the fool.'
'The only fools I know of are related to the Muggles, Lucius. But never mind we have onlookers. Enjoying yourself, Harry?'
And for the second time that night, Harry Potter awoke with a start. Though this time his scar burned hot, and his eyes were filled with the sight of Draco Malfoy's perplexed face and Voldemort's laughter rung in his ear. White jolts of pain seared through his head when he fumbled for ink, quill, and parchment.
Authoress Ramble: Dear readers, new and old, this is a slashfiction that is currently beeing rewritten. I ask for your patience. I also wish to remind you that the fourth dungeon as well as the third floor of the southwest tower are strictly forbidden for anyone beneath third grade. Thank you.
