well... I seem to be on a roll... I just completed a few one-shots and I have been working on this for awhile now... plus a hundred other half written stories... I am going to try to get those up and posted so... it make take awhile for those, but this one... I want to have completely posted within a few months!

Disclaimer: I want to shoot the person who thought of these! Their so hard! I think it's understood that I don't own the characters... Why do I way to say/type it as well? It's not like I am getting any money for this... on the conrtrary, I am probably losing money! I use my time writing these stories that I love to write when I could be working at a second job...no. I rather write...

Of Emeralds and Sapphires

by Takara R. M.

summery: There were many colored jars, and all of them held a special substance. With the right ones, anything could happen, but the price was dear. Harry looked at the jars. Yes. He would do it. He had to. A war was coming, he needed to be ready... Draco/Harry fic! You have been warned

I know that the rating says M, but it is really MA. It wouldn't let me put MA and M was the closest! Warning! Mature content! one-shot made two chapters... will post second chapter soon!

Chapter 1 Dissappearing

He sat there, listening to clock chime. Ten. It was ten at night. He heaved a sigh as he felt a chill from the on coming wind.

Every night was like this. Every night he sat there staring into the night sky asking the same question.

"Why?" Why him?

The wind carried his voice over the land to all the corners. Returning, once again, to him.

There was never an answer.

Thursday, December 12th – mid-morning

Potions –

Harry sat there in his usual spot. He was early, very early. Looking around, he felt compelled to move. Move his seat to a new location. Something new. Something different.

Standing, Harry picked up his belongings and walked to the back of the room. Setting his stuff down on the desk in the farthest corner, he sat waiting for the other students to arrive.

A few moments later, Snape walked in from his office and hesitated in his tracks before continuing to his desk. He was not at all surprised to see Harry there, as the boy had been arriving early for a month now. No. It was the fact that his student was now seated at an empty desk at the very back of the room.

As the students filed into the room, no one noticed that Harry was at the back. Ron and Hermione looked slightly worried – but not to overly concerned – that their friend was not there.

Snape started class promptly on time. Everyone was a little surprised that he had not commented on Harry's 'absence'. Ron and Hermione sat next to each other, leaving the seat next to Ron vacant. Class went smoothly – or as smoothly as one of Snape's classes gets – and only five points were taken from the Griffendors.

When class ended, Ron and Hermione were the first to leave, seemingly interested in finding their missing friend. Draco was the last to leave, sending his two lackeys on ahead of him. Yet, as he was heading toward the door, he saw something in the corner. Or rather… someone. With a smirk, he stepped outside the door and waited in the hall.

Harry sighed as he stood and walked up to his professor. He set four small jars on the desk. He proceeded to place his vial from class with its brethren and handed Snape a parchment filled with Harry's own graceful scrawl.

Snape took the parchment and read though it while Harry brought out a small cauldron. Snape looked up and nodded his consent. Harry got to work without hesitance.

Opening the sapphire blue jar, Harry carefully scooped a few spoonfuls of the sugar like substance into the cauldron. The substance look every bit like the sweet grain, except for its penetrating blue and small glow the radiating softly. Then Harry poured half of the liquid substance from the emerald green jar. Like the stone, the liquid's color was not a stable shade of green, but seemed to have a flux of many different shades, never staying one color for longer then a few milliseconds. Without blinking, Harry poured all the substance from the snow-white jar. Pausing, Harry placed his hand over the cauldron with the mixture and closed his eyes.

Snape watched approvingly as the mixture began to bubble, then suddenly stop and go black. Harry, keeping his eyes closed, held out the last jar – the blood red jar. Snape pour some of the mixture into Harry's jar and the rest into an onyx black jar that he brought out from inside his robes. Harry closed the jar and opened his eyes to start cleaning everything up. Snape wrote a few things on the parchment and waited for the boy to gather his things. The professor handed the parchment to Harry with strict instructions. The young wizard offered no reply. He merely turned and left the room not noticing the figure watching over him.

: Draco's Point of View:

He was in there for a while. I kept peeking inside to see what they were doing. Unfortunately, Potter's body was in the way, so I could not see what was on the table.

When Potter started to clean up, I saw Severus writing on a parchment, which he gave to Potter. Alas, I was not close enough to here what my godfather was saying to the Boy-Who-Was-Bloody-Hot-And-Bloody-Could-Not-Die.

I turned around quickly as Potter moved to leave. My heart was racing. What were they doing? Why was Potter sitting at the back of the class? Many more questions raced through my mind, but the left with the wind when Potter emerged from the class.

It always strikes me, in moments like this, how sad Potter is. His eyes speak volumes of sorrow and loneliness. It always reminds me of when I first offered my friendship to him. Unfortunately, those snobby, selfish little Gryffindors got to him first and brainwashed him.

When I had first seen him, my heart broke. He had this air of innocence around him that just called to me. To my very soul. Very being. Then I saw that blasted scare. Harry Potter. The boy whose sadness leaked from him in waves as that of the ocean was bloody Harry Potter. Nevertheless, at that moment, I cared not.

Of course, Luscious was furious when he learned that I had offered my friendship to the Bastard-Who-Bloody-Nearly-Defeat-Luscious'-Master. I could not bring myself to tell him about the boy that I saw, even to save myself from the choice dark curses that Luscious inflicted upon me.

At school, at night, I silently cried before I went to sleep. I never cry for my self or in front of others. It was a sign of weakness. Yet, during those moments that I let the salty liquid run down my face, I can only think of one person. Harry. And during that time, he is Harry, not Potter or any other name. Harry. Just Harry. Beautiful, sad Harry. I cried for I knew that he would not – no, could not – cry for himself. To do so, would be selfish, and my Harry is anything and everything if not selfless. It is a quality of his that I praise him for and my reason for crying.

Gryffindors are not so lovey, dovey as an outsider might believe. No. They are the most self-centered people one could hope not to ever meet. Harry is the complete opposite of them. He is the emerald in a sea of rugged glass. He should have been put into Slytherin. If he had, my Harry would have true, loyal friends and would not have an air sorrow surrounding him.

The Slytherins could see Harry's grief; they could taste it in the air. They could see Harry. The Gryffindors my not be able to, but the Slytherins could and they wanted to do something, anything they could to help ease it.

Looking at Harry now, walking dejectedly down the corridor, I feel a surge of hate for those so-called friends of his. That was my true reason for tormenting them. It was my revenge for Harry.

Sigh. Why is Fate so cruel?

I start following the Beautiful-Boy-Who-Lived out of the dungeons, still pondering what went on after class.

:Normal POV:

At dinner, Harry was nowhere to be seen. The Gryffindors where in chaos. What would they do without their famous star? The Great Hall was unusually quiet and everyone jumped when the double doors swung open.

Snape came walking in swiftly to the head table and took his place. His left eyebrow rose at how quiet it was. Looking toward the Gryffindor table, he saw that Potter was absent and was not at the least surprised.

Unfortunately, Hermione also saw the Professor's look and began a heated whispering conversation with Ron.

11:30 pm – Same Night

Everyone was seated in a chair. No one said anything. They were all waiting for Him to talk. Snape brought out a parchment and passed it around. From the wide range of expressions, it seemed that no one actually comprehended what was going to happen.

Harry placed a blood red jar on the table. A collective gasp rang out through the room.

Then all went silent as Harry opened the jar.

to be continued...
hehehe. Sorry about that. I will have chapter two up quickly so you don't have to kill me... My friend PK has first rights to that... It seems that she gets angry with the places that I decided to end my chapters...hn. Oh well.

Please Read and Review! I know I like this story... I know that PK likes it... I want to know what you think! Ja ne.