A Rush Of Blood to the Head

by Mansi

A traitor, of both dark and light, was cast out into another world to live among the despised. Yet, he was rescued by the last person in the world to care. He slowly finds his past and true love as he fights to return to the world. DMHP, HGRW.

Title:A Rush of Blood to the HeadCharacters: HP/DM, HG/RW, others later, Slash, Rated M for later.
Warning! This is a slash whichs means Male/Male relationships and situations. If you don't approve, don't read.
Disclaimer: Not my stuff at all. I wish I were JK Rowling, but sadly I am not. I have only made up the plot and a bit of the setting. Anyway, these characters are not mine.
Summary: A traitor, of both dark and light, was cast out into another world to live among the despised. Yet, he is rescued by the last person in the world to care. The streets of Italy see their exploits as he fights to return to the world. DMHP, HGRW. SLASH.

:":Do You Remember:":

Do you remember when we first met? I sure do
it was some time in early September
You were lazy about it, you made me wait around
I was so crazy about you I didn't mind

Three sillohettes hastily turn down one of the many dark alleyways. Their shadows play against the walls of the tall buildings and lightly touch the closed, dark shutters. These streets are old and dusty with architecture dating back to the Babylonians and on from there. Gothic structures hang over them, looming with arcs, points, and memories. The feet of the hooded figures pitter-patter against old cobblestones, echoing off the mildewing walls. Overbearing trash cans line the doorsteps as clouds cover most of the nearly-full moon. Long-forgotten dead flowers are the center pieces for the rusting balconies that claim anyone who hadn't had their tetanus shot. The faint smell of the fish market earlier that day lingers in the haze. The mist floats above the moldy ground so you can only see ten feet in front of you. These alleys seem abandoned and less used in the current day. Who could blame them? There is an eerie-dead quiet that stills the moist air with whispers and darkness untold and unseen. The street lamps dimly glow, illuminating nothing. Thus, causing much confusion.

"I don't think this is the right way..." A figure stops to squint at a large arrowed street sign, unable to read it through the unbearable fog. The dark black robes flutter around its short and delicate shape; its face undistinguishable. These creatures seem in a hurry and looking for a specific place that they obviously can't find through the tight, curvy roads . They are anonymously clothed, taking care to leave their identities secret. If you saw them, you'd think, "Wow, these guys must be important!" Well, either that or, "Wow, they look scary. Mommy! Wahhhhhh.." Umm...maybe not.

"Nonsense, I know where I'm going." The middle one looks at a large creased paper in his hand, trailing an unknown course with a pointed finger (ahh, so they have fingers!). This tall shadow pushes forward, leaving the other to stare at the oversized yet unreadable sign. The left one stops, torn between its two companions' decisions and trying to stay neutral in a dangerous position.

"Well, it certainly looks familiar." The first cloaked shape refuses to move further and stands in what appears to be an impatient poise, an arm on hip and foot tapping. In the background, the neutral companion cringes and waits for the oncoming burst.

"Look around! Everything looks familiar! IT'S ALL THE SAME!" The middle figure flails its covered arms in the air and folds them on its chest, frustrated by the comments of the first silohette behind him. Unbeknowst to them, the third one abandons its position and creeps down around the passages, looking for a sign or familiar object to direct upon. It moves softly, not wanting to disturb the argument. It had learned from experience to leave them alone.

"We're going in circles. Give me the map."

"No."

"Give...me...the...map"

"I..said...no." Seconds pass as the tall cloaked figure stares at the complicated map, not comprehending a single thing. It doesn't want the other to know this, so it turns its back to the shorter one.

"WELL? What are you going to do with it, stick it up your arse? You have to have brains to use it, you know!" It says this smugly, both of them unaware of their companion investigating the street up and down. The figure taps a booted foot on the dusty stones, once again, waiting for an answer or reply of some sort.

"I HAVE BRAINS! ARGGHH. Fine take it. I know where we are going anyway. I don't need the stupid map." Its reply resounds off the bare walls.

"If you had asked for directions like I told you to, we wouldn't be in this situation." The first one is bending over the map, mumbling its disapproval and something that sounded alot like "men."

"ASK FOR DIRECTIONS! That man was eating a dried hand! I'D RATHER BE LOST THAN END UP WITH STUMPS AS ARMS! Why didn't you ask it, then?" It waves its arms in overdramatic body language.

"Hmph." It replys and stands for a while, looking from the sign to the map in a hurry.

"Um... guys..." The last shape calls out to the others.

"It wouldn't be so late it you hadn't taken all your time preening! You're so much worse in this form!" It tells the other, annoyed at being ignored.

"Worse! Excuse me! WHAT DO YOU MEAN WORSE!"

"Hey guys!" The third unnoticed figure approaches them again, trying to get their attention. It starts to jump up and down and waits for them to notice him.

"Yea, worse! I mean, you have had your head stuck up your arse ever since we changed"

"GUYS!" It cut off the very rude remark coming from the first one and grabs both of them. Their cloaked heads swing over to look at it. "I think its this way." It says softly and points towards an even smaller alley, letting go of the first one's arm. The way is dark and without even the dimming street lamps that are no use anyway. It looks even less used, if that's possible. The cobblestones that decorate it jut out from the ground and wait for feet to trip. The first one glances back at the map and gives a small nod of approval. They move forward in agreed silence, not wanting to disturb whatever may be down this forbidding street. The cloaks billow and wave behind their owners quickened pace. Only the sound of reaching destinations radiates through the heavy air.

Upon approaching a dead end, a glimpse of a shocking glow appears between the fog. A boy is crouching in the corner. He sits, waiting for fate.

"What the...?" The tall hooded creature stops abruptly, looking at the partially moonlit blonde boy. "Oh no..no no no."

"What?" The others fall in line behind him. They try to see what it is shielding from view. They all walk closer to the boy and notice that in fact the boy is not a boy, but a young man.

"Its him."

"You mean..."

"Are you sure?" They question the tall shadow.

"Bloody hell, yes. Who else looks like that? Erggh, what I'd like to do to that bastard."

"He is defenseless. That is the past." The third cloaked one shifts to put a hand on its shoulder. It tries to comfort the other without prevail. The first and smallest one takes out a long pointed object that gleamed under the moon from the sleeve of its robe.

"Lumos." It pronounces with confidence. The object emits a bright light that settles on the ground and the boy in front of them. He has strong face and a strong, dignified jaw line. Dark purple circles spoil his beautiful, yet scornful, countenance. Like the others, he is clothed in the blackest robes, making him hard to see. The light reveals that he is not crouching, but lying on the ground, unconcious. His head rest against the old, crusty bricks that make up the wall. He does not appear to be hurt, yet the figures think otherwise. They argue about his current wellbeing.

"We must set aside our rivalry."

"I don't care. Once a git, always a git!"

"The same could be said about you..." The smaller one mumbles. The third looks at the others and tries to convince them.

"Look, we don't know what they could've done to him. It could be a mental damage. Plus, I'm tired of fighting with him." The smaller one nods her head in agreement while the other doesn't give in."

"He could kill us all! Watch him wake up while were asleep and automatically hex us in our sleep! IT COULD BE A TRAP!"

"I doubt it. His father wouldn't want him to do something so... un-graceful. He could be witholding important information that we need to retain." The first one walks to the boy and starts to search his robes. It digs into his pockets, rummaging for a specific something. It returns with empty hands; its shoulders a bit downcast.

"Its not there."

"What do you mean its not there!"

"Do you think..."

"Yes. He was assaulted by them."

"Well...m-m-maybe one of us did it?" The tall one's stutter betrays its position of bravery. The others shake their heads with great doubt. Each of them run the possibilities in their heads and each one of them crossing off the reasons.

"But what would cause the betrayal? Why would they turn on him? Why would his father do this to him?"

"Maybe he is just taking a nap?" Its tall cloak shudders with its optimistic comment. The others say nothing, not wanting to put down its hope. Behind it, the third one swoops down and picks up the boy in its arms. The man was surprisingly light and upon further scrutiny the man seemed very malnourished. He was like a delicate mask, waiting to be dropped and broken beyond repair, reminding it of that old nursery rhyme. Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall. The shadows have seen one of the local masks fall and break, and it wasn't pretty. Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. They were in one of the many shops, when a little boy picked up a beak and accidently pushed a ceramic mask off the wall. All the King's Horses and all the King's Men. The shattering still rang in their ears. Couldn't put Humpty back together again. It was an honest mistake; one they do not wish to remember or repeat. Hearing something behind him, the 2nd one swings around to see the other silohette with the man draped across its arms. "Wait! You don't know how dangerous he could be! He could have a curse on him or something...I've...I've read about it in the Daily Prophet."

"Since when do you read?" The third one snickers at its companion's comment. "Also, the Daily Prophet doesn't know anything. He doesn't have any symptoms of any curse (about boobytrapped humans) that I know of. I've checked Olde and Forgotten Bewitchments and Charmes, Curses and Counter-Curses, and even An Anthology of Eighteenth Century Charms... I really don't think he's bewitched or enchanted."

"That's right. He's not...aww come on..." The third shadow notices its tall friend's look. "Why don't we just let him wake up at the hotel, and then see what goes on from there?"

"Fine fine, but don't come crying to me when one of you is under the imperius curse." It replies reluctantly, then mumbles, "I just know he'll be a pompous bastard..." With this, they proceed to turn away from the dead end, once again looking to the map for help. Several more arguments arose, but none in great ferocity. The twining streets and roads were creepy, and really confusing. They all began to wish to be back in bed, away from the nasty water smells, the overbearing fog, and the dim streetlights.

The roads wind back and forth. They twist unforgivably.
He sways with each turn and he feels hands soft hands on his back, holding him from danger and falling
The retreating moon, the misty air whispy hairs tickle his face as a deep murmur surrounds him.
Walking in the rain between the rain drops,
and bringing traffic to a halt.

He woke up.

I was staring at the sky
Just looking for a star
to pray on or wish on or something like that.
I was having a sweet fix
of a daydream of a boy
whose reality I knew was a hopeless to be had.

Light silver eyes opened to see a dull, gray and almost moldy ceiling. It had little stalactites hanging down, which you see in every suburbian home nowadays, tempting people to pull them down one by one. Draco Malfoy rolled over as his piercing gaze settled on the surrounding room. It was a normal and almost boring room. It was not lavish, and not luxurious, but it had a sense of home. The burgandy carpet and tan furniture with dark wood were cozy features. An oval coffee table was placed infront of him, adorned with cup rings and an issue of the Daily Prophet. Flowers sat in a vase on the table, with chocolate wrappers decorating its base. There was a large mirror set adjacent to a desk and a lamp in the backcorner. Paintings embellished the cream walls on all sides, depicting scenes of canals and picnics in the country. Three doors connected this room to others. His bare feet touched the oddly warm floor as he got up, shaking out the cramps in his legs caused by little use, and noticed he had slept on a nice comfy brown couch. He was wearing some soft but worn (especially in the knees) PJs and an oversized shirt that had something called 'The Killers' on it. Directly behind the couch was a large curtained window. The room had a view, one showing the tiny street below it with people roaming along the stones. Not a beautiful view, in any case, but it had character. This room was cozy and comfortable, despite the mold and dust.

After observing the surprisingly unfamiliar room, Draco sat for a while, trying to rack his brain for lingering memories of where he was. It alarmed him how he couldn't place his thoughts and pinpoint the situation. Why was he in this...living-room?

"Hello?" No answer. Curious, and a bit afraid, he slumped over to the door that presided in front of the couch. It led to a hallway in similar colors of the room itself. He had no interest in this, and was cautious. He did not want to get lost when he already was, anyway. Closing the door, he approached the door to the left of the couch. The door had carvings of flowers, and oddly enough, little magical creatures that Draco couldn't recall the names of. He turned the knob slowly, revealing what was inside bit by bit. He entered the room to see a big bed with sidetables. This room had seen some human existence, but whether it was good or bad was beyond Draco. The bed had obviously been used recently, since the sheets were upturned and messy. A sudden urge to sneer hit Draco like bomb. Another thing connecting him to his past, but what did it mean? One of the tables had what seemed to be the emptying of pockets. Lint, some coins, and some more chocolate wrappers sat beside a lamp on the table. This room had an overwhelming feeling. Its scent of chocolate, amber wood, pepperment, and something Draco couldn't put his finger on swept over him. Yet, it was a bit comforting. He walked across the room and faced a new set of smells, smells that he couldn't identify. These were different, and uncomfortable. He quickly opened the adjorning door, and escaped into a bathroom. The bathroom was set in chromes and the ever so present tans. A bit bored, he retreated back to the livingroom.

He had forgotten that there was another door.

Draco Malfoy was still kinda bored. He hadn't seen anyone and after searching the rooms up and down, declared them uninteresting. He had checked out the last room, which, like the other bedroom, had a bathroom also. The whole of it smelled awfully girly and he even spotted some folded girls-robes (in teal and red). Its not that he had anything against girls, it's just that this room was completely different and stranger than the others. There was hair mousse, perfume, and some jewelry spread on the only dresser in the rooms. The neatness, overall, surprised him. He was sitting on the plump couch, waiting for some miracle to happen to interest him. He had already read the Daily Prophet front to back. It only contained some things about a dark lord and some other rubbish.

Where has our Savior gone?
The wizarding world has recently pronounced the boy-who-lived as a missing person. Harry Potter has not been seen since for over six months, ever since the funeral of one of the greatest wizards ever known, Albus Dumbledore. Some say that Potter is in fact greiving over the loss, and refuses to see anyone. Others say they saw him on trips across Europe. Reports of sightings have all been filed, and yet none lead to the Savior of the world's existence. The Ministry of Magic only proceed to say, "He is in good hands." Do they really know where he is? "Him an' Scrimigeour don't like each other," A correspondent replied to the question. "So, I doubt th' Ministry know anythin' bout it. I have hope that wherever he is, that he wil' do the world justice." Will Harry come back to fufill the rumoured destiny? Or is he already in the hands of You-Know-Who? These are questions waiting to be answered. "He was in my backyard yesterday," Lockhart said to presses when...(continued on page 3)

Bored with everything, he looked at his hands and proceeded to pick at his perfectly manicured nails. He was surprised to notice his long and delicate fingers. They were pale and quick, like loyalty. Why were they so perfect? He wondered why he just realized this. As he was a bit confused, he walked over to the long standing mirror. What he saw made him speechless and spellbound.

And so he sat there, staring at his beautiful body for over half an hour. It was an amazing sight that anyone would love to look at (Oh so I would). Unfortunately, he was interrupted by the door knob. Wait, the door knob. (yes Draco, the door knob, you know, the thing that opens doors?) It was jiggling fiercely, as if someone put in the wrong key. Afraid, the blonde jumped behind the couch, not knowing what to expect. He heard muffled voices sound through the door and some faint curses. There was a pause, then a loud click as the knob turned. The door opened to reveal a curly-haired young man talking animatedly to a dark brunette man about masks and some carnival. These men looked to be but boys and seemed to be only 17 or 18. They talked for some time in front of the door until the boy with black ringlets turned towards the couch. They stopped, and looked at the blonde's absence. "Oh great, he's not there"

"Awww...shit. I told you this would happen. I told you I told you I told you."

"Stop acting like a first year. He's around here somewhere. I mean, how far could he have gotten?" The shorter, black haired boy said with an uneasy smile of hope. "er...right?"

"Sure, he's probably around here somewhere. I'll go look in the bathroom while I take a shower." The brunette replied, eager to leave all the work to his comrade. His eyes were of a light brown hue that were soft with laughter, but easily turned hard with anger. He smiled and started for the room to his right.

"Oh no you don't. Help me out. What if you were right about him? Then what would happen to me?"

"Alright alright." The taller boy said in reluctance. He then went on and mumbled something about hexes and evil lords for several seconds. They both glanced around the room and began to search it. After a couple more seconds, which involved opening the adjorning doors and closing them, the brunette found him huddling behind the big couch.

"Found him. He didn't go anywhere at all. Hey Malfoy, what's the rush?" Draco stumbled and retreated upon his discovery. He didn't know these people, and why did they call him Malfoy? Or were they talking to someone else?

"Wh-h-o are you? Why are you here, wait, why am I here?" He stuttered, afraid of these new people and afraid of the situation. The tall boy chuckled at the reply.

"Oh yeah, the ferret doesn't recognize us!"

"Well, now he should. Good going, and we just got these disguises too!" The other boy walked over in front of Draco and stared at him, disgusted with his arch nemesis.

"I should know you? Why should I? I haven't seen you a day in my life."

"Really? Wait, did you not catch the ferret part?" He continued with the look of unrecognition on the blonde's face, "Oh come on! The bouncing ferret? No? Well then, what about Hogwarts? The boy-who-lived?" This boy stared Draco down, looking deep in his eyes and Draco looked back. The boy was mesmerizing. His eyes were of the deepest purple and sparkled. There was a flash of anger in those deep orbs. Draco stumbled to reply.

"Er...um..oh, that guy that's missing? I don't know him, but I've heard about him in the Daily Prophet."

"WHAT!" The brunette's mouth fell open. "Oh you gotta be kidding me. You don't know anything?"

"I DO KNOW STUFF. How insulting!"

"That sounds more like it, but from what you've told me, it doesn't seem you remember anything about your life"

"I do too! I know that I'm beautiful, my eyes are grey but change to silver, I have the nicest arse, and my hair is perfect." The brunette's face reddened a bit, annoyed with Draco's vanity.

"Oh come off it. You hold yourself sooo high, you lousy ponce. Been looking in the mirror much, eh Malfoy?"

"I'm not going to dignify that with an answer." The tall boy fell over laughing, knowing that's exactly what Malfoy had been doing.

"Okay you two. Malfoy, try not to hit him. We are under a truce here until things get sorted out. Which also means that you shouldn't insult each other." The shorter boy glared at the two as Draco childishly stuck out his tongue at the brunette. He sighed and shook his head. Turning towards Malfoy, he began to ask more questions, "It seems you know alot about your physical aspects," The taller boy coughed loudly at this, which sounded alot like 'ponce', "But do you know anything about your life? Your Family? Lord Voldemort?"

"Lord whats-a-whoosit?"

"You mean you don't know ANYTHING about Voldemort?"

"Wh-h-at? I really don't know what you are talking about. Lord Voldemort? Who the hell is this 'lord' and why do you call me Malfoy? It's bloody annoying!" He nearly spat at the boy. He was flustered and his face was red. These guys were confusing him and...sort of made him nervous.

"Merlin! Calm down Malfoy. I just want to get the facts straight." The boy with ringlets steps back, eyes wide with an almost hatred gleam.

"He loses his memory and yet he is still a bastard." The taller boy mumbles in disgust and fury, waiting to pounce on the ponce.

"We don't know that he has lost his memory. He may just...um...be under an imperius charm, or not wanting to tell us anything."

"Lost my memory! The hell I haven't! I for one would not loose memory, no matter the circumstances."

"Alright, then. What's your name, Malfoy?" The brunette looked at him with malice in his topaz orbs. His height loomed over the blonde, who had fallen down after being discovered.

"That's easy. My name is...well...um...I know it. I do! It's on the tip of my tongue, I mean, that is...well...bloody hell." He said in realization. His smug appearance turned downcast and he slumped down further. The black haired boy turned his head to his companion and whispered in the other boy's ear.

"Alert the Order."

A/N: well, that's that. I'm evil aren't I? Won't leaving ya hanging much more...I want reviews and reviews! Tell me about the length. Oh, and the writing is a bit sketchy (Oh yea, and I need a Beta...) , but I had mono, so I didn't feel like doing anything about it. Promise next will be better! (I really slacked at the end! erggh... stupid mono. Stupid upcoming school!) Anyway, about the whole, Who are these people? You'll soon find out, and I bet half of you already know... I like where it's going so far. I might have the next chapter in a few days.

First song was Do You Remember by Jack Johnson

Second Song was Paper Bag by Fiona Apple