Author: Kooriblue
Aim:kooriblue
Rating: PG13 (just barely)
Category: ummm?
Warning: HP/DM; Abused!Harry;
Disclaimer: I own the characters (some of them), just not the names or the settings. MwaHahahaHA
Author Notes: I know I can't write. Normally, I wouldn't even put such a horrific thing out there. It's all Jeffina's fault. Also, minor changes have been made since SiriousB1 pointed a few things out. Thanks for the review!
Dedication: To Jeffina (more like From Jeffina, if that makes sense)
Edit note: This has been posted before, Vladaia was picky and had it deleted so more stuff was added in.
Summary: War has an ambience of desperation and helplessness. Sometimes, when you're torn between orders and soft words, you find yourself slipping to apathy and as the ground collapses, death isn't so frightening anymore. Killing Harry Potter shouldn't be so hard for Draco Malfoy. Dying shouldn't be so hard for Harry. In which Draco is 'self-preserving', Harry is jaded but clueless, and Pansy talks far too much.
Chapter One. (In which Draco sulks, Harry wonders, and everything is in present tense)
The picture is far too big to look at kid,
Your eyes won't open wide enough--
And you are constantly surrounded by that swirling stream of what is and what was,
Well, we've all made our predictions but the truth still isn't out...
So if you want to see the future, go stare into a cloud,
And keep trying to find your way out of that maze of memories,
It all sort of looks familiar, but then you get up close and it's different.
Clearly.
Each time you turn a corner, you are right back to where you were,
And your only hope is that forgetting might make a door appear...
Is it your fear of being buried that makes you so afraid to speak?
-Bright Eyes: The Big Picture
Someone is saying something to him. Probably Pansy. He doesn't take much notice.
Merlin, she could talk for hours. It's always about herself. Has she ever asked about the details in other people? Not once.
That's not to say he would tell anyone much about himself. Especially not the letter he had received in the morning post, along with his Daily Profit.
Still nodding at Pansy's insolent rambling (The Jones's were having a tea party, her grandmother was trying to sell a magical mirror, and, last Tuesday, she had bought a one-of-a-kind bathrobe) he studies the faces of his fellow seventh year Slytherins. He wonders how many of them know. He wonders if this is another one of Voldemort's elaborate plans (though it is quite simple when he thinks about it), or if it is just between Voldemort, Lucius, himself, and... Harry Potter.
He wishes The Dark Lord would just give up on attempting to kill Potter; he had been failing at it for the last 17 years. His father seems to think this last plan was infallible. But he alone knows it is not going to work. He scribbles something on a scrap piece of paper and ties it to his owl's leg. He wishes he could rewind his life to this morning, before he had gotten the message. He wishes he could rewind his life to the beginning of sixth year, before he became a death eater. He wishes he could rewind his life to before he was born, and that his mother had married anyone but Lucius.
Hermoine is saying something to Ron. Dean is laughing at something Seamus said. Parvati and Lavendar are giggling. Neville is telling Luna about something. Is it Herbology? Harry doesn't know. Harry doesn't even know why she (a Ravenclaw) is at the Gryffindor table, but then, Luna always has been a loony one... Harry isn't listening to any of these things. He had just received a most peculiar letter. No one but Draco Malfoy had noticed an owl fly directly from the Slytherin table to the Gryffindors. Now, it sits on the edge of Harry's plate, bobbing its sleek, black head slightly from side to side, as if nervous about something.
When Harry makes no action towards it, the owl pushes off Harry's plate and flaps away. The plate knocks against the hard wood of Gryffindor table, and Ron finally looks up. He sees the look on Harry's face, and asks Harry is he is okay and wants to know what Harry is looking at. Harry assures him that of course he is fine and at the moment he thinks he might have eaten too many blueberry pancakes. He thinks he'll go to the common room to rest a bit. Ron accepts this. Ron knows what it's like to eat too many blueberry pancakes. He smiles and turns back to Hermoine. Everything is under control.
Harry gets up. Thoughts of going to the common room never once cross his mind as he heads to the Quidditch Pitch, not noticing a pair of eyes following him out.
His thoughts turn back to the message the owl had brought.
Harry P.,
Meet me in the Trophy Room at 11 tonight. Alone. Don't be Late.It isn't signed. Why would anyone send him an unsigned note, to meet them alone, on a completely insignificant night such as this? Harry wonders. Harry wonders some more. Harry wonders if he should tell Ron and Hermoine about it, and why he didn't when Ron had asked.
Alone.
Harry stops wondering. The only thing he knows is that he will be in the trophy room tonight, waiting.