Disclaimer: Too lazy, see Prologue.

A/N It took me awhile to get the timeline set up... anyways hope this makes sense! -shifty glance- Thankies to all who reviewed , I loved the reviews very much! mwhahaha. -coughs- ahem anyways, on with the story.

Harry sighed as he held his eyes shut and sat up on his dorm bed. He'd just been trying to remember what had happened during Easter last year after Ron brought up an incident with a boggart and a pitchfork that had happened on the holiday in their dormitory. But his sixth year had become a blur to him, along with all recent memories.

Ever since Voldemort had placed that curse on him a month ago in April in another attempt on his life he'd found himself with an incomplete memory of the last year. He could barely remember winning the Quidditch game against Slytherin that Ron seemed to find so memorable.

What he remembered of it was wind in his face, the rush of being on a broom in the air. Ron remembered him kicking Malfoy's ass like the rogue bludger in his second year. What struck Harry as odd was that he would forget kicking Malfoy's ass; he always loved the chance to do that.

He didn't even fully remember the night Voldemort had attacked him. He remembered pain, but he didn't remember how or why he'd gotten himself trapped in Voldemort's clutches.

And if he could remember the spell Voldemort had placed on him, he'd wonder about how to fix the side affects. He wanted his memory back. It was hard trying to think of a memory when all he could think of was a blank space.

Harry sighed and laid back down on his bed, trying to find a comfortable position in the sheets while Ron snored on the bed next to him. Tomorrow was the second week of May and while he still felt safe in the school, something seemed out of place still ever since his recovery from the attack.

"Harry we'll see you later, we have to go to the prefect meeting now." Hermione said, pulling Ron along with her as they went to the prefects' meeting of the month.

Harry laughed as he watched his friends go, Hermione holding Ron's arms tightly, as if making sure he would show up for his duties whether he liked it or not. Harry was heading back to the common room from the library when he was slightly distracted by goings on around the library's entrance.

"Piss off Malfoy, you're not wanted anywhere here." Harry heard a cruel voice say up ahead of him, and he saw a group of Slytherins glaring at the blond who was just glaring back at them. Harry could understand why they didn't want Malfoy around them, what with Malfoy's father and all in their fifth year.

Malfoy looked over in Harry's direction but as soon as he spotted Harry he got an angry gleam in his grey eyes and walked the other way, only to get tripped by one of the male Slytherins in the group who looked very unfriendly.

Malfoy fell down to the floor harshly, and Harry couldn't help but laugh along with the rest of them as Malfoy's face met stone. Malfoy just got up on his hands and knees. He had a big burn on the side of his pale face and a trickle of blood from his lips. He stood up and walked calmly away from the Slytherins.

Malfoy disappeared behind a corner down the hallway while his fellow Slytherins were snickering still about how funny it was to see him go splat on the floor. 'When did Slytherins start picking on Malfoy?' Harry thought to himself, but it wasn't that important so he pushed it out of his mind.

The Slytherins dispersed into the library after Malfoy left, and Harry walked through the deserted corridors, through a few tapestries, and towards the Fat Lady. "Hogs fly." Harry spoke and she opened up the door for him, barely paying attention to him as her attention seemed to be turned to a cup full with brandy.

Walking into the warm common room, Harry spotted Neville, Dean and Seamus pouring over a book. "Hey guys." he said as he approached them, glimpsing at the book not to discretely. "Why are you guys looking into tattoos?" Harry asked.

"Well you know Harry, they have advantages with the ladies." Seamus said, grinning cheekily. He turned the book upside right for Harry to see a picture of a demon cat snarling up at him. "Plus they're cool."

Harry nodded and sat down beside them, letting Seamus tell them which tattoos looked better and which looked like they belonged on a girl. Harry had to admit, he liked the one of a dragon wrapped around an odd looking symbol, its eyes looking dead ahead in such a way that they seemed real.

Draco had gone back to his dormitory, wishing nothing more then to be left alone. He looked around the room and rubbed his red cheek, wincing at how much it hurt because of his fall. He knew the room would be occupied by his now new enemies, dreading it every moment as he knew they would say some more unkind things to him.

'Goddamn Potter, he just stood there and laughed! That bastard made me think he cared. I hate him, I hate him!' Draco thought as an angry tear slipped down his cheek. After Easter when Harry had left for holidays to the Weasley's, Harry, no it was Potter now, had ignored him. He acted like the last few months had never happened, like Draco had not been his lover.

Maybe to Potter he hadn't been his lover. Maybe he'd been someone he took fucking pity on and now that he'd taken Draco's innocence, virginity, happiness, and the very will he'd had for living, he was finished with Draco. Draco felt like used dirty old garbage thanks to Potter.

Draco felt the old anger, the passionate hate he'd held for Potter the many years he'd known the boy rekindle in his brain. But it wasn't worth it now, Potter didn't care that Draco had loved him.

Yet again, nothing was worth it for Draco. He didn't even think showing up for his last year would be worth it. He should just go home and stay there for the rest of his life. There he would be with his mother, with someone who cared. He would never have to listen to another insult again, or ever look Potter in the face either.

Yet for some reason, it mattered that he didn't leave. He'd stay at school, if only for pure fear of what would happen to him if he did not. Not that it would be much better from the treatment he got at school.

Draco wiped his tears away with his robe and laid down on his bed. Staring up at the ceiling Draco closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep. It would pass the time better then anything.

Harry was about to get moving to Potions when Cho Chang came running up to him and tapped him on the shoulder. "Hey, Harry." she said, looking at him expectantly. Harry smiled awkwardly at her.

"Hey, Cho." he responded to her sort of halfheartedly.

"I wanted to ask you earlier but I couldn't find you, would you like to go with me to Hogsmeade tomorrow?" Cho asked, smiling prettily. Harry thought this question should have made him happy, or nervous, but it really didn't to either.

"Uh, sure." Harry answered, not knowing what else to say to her. Cho smiled at him and walked away as Hermione gave him a look that was clearly saying 'Now why the hell did you do that?' Harry ignored her and walked with Ron towards the dungeons, Hermione following closely behind.

This was normal; this was something he could remember. Just because he couldn't remember much from this year didn't mean he couldn't get on with his life. Yes this would be good for him, go to Hogsmeade with a girl and get back into playing Quidditch. It would be good to be back into his life again.

Draco left the great hall intending to go to his Potions class as quickly as possible. The way a few Ravenclaws had been eyeing him told him right away that he was in trouble for simply breathing and that it was either he ran or they beat him up.

So he had left his place at the table, which had gaps on either side of him because no one wanted to eat near him. He'd gotten used to the alienation, and even more used to running away so he didn't get hurt by others.

He was quite good at the games of hide and seek some students would play with him. If he won, he didn't receive any broken bones that he had to crudely heal because he didn't want to go to the Hospital wing too many times. If they won, well let's just say it wasn't a pretty situation for Draco to be in.

When Draco reached the doors of the great hall he saw Harry with Cho Chang, acting rather friendly with her by the looks of things as well. The past year Harry had ignored her for the most part, and she him.

So why the hell was she smiling at him like a temptress and why was he talking to her willingly? It only served to make Draco feel more like a sloppy second on Harry Potter's plate.

Draco had lost what little motivation he had gained to make him get up this morning and go to class just by the sight of them. He no longer wanted to go to class at all; he just wanted to be left alone to hurt.

Draco snuck off easily down the corridors to wander around the castle, hand moving towards his pocket where he kept his small pocket knife. He'd done this a few times before, he knew no one would care about him being gone, and the teacher would probably not notice.

Unless the teacher was Snape. Draco would deal with him later, and if he got a detention for skipping he could care less. He'd skip that too if he had to. He couldn't stand being around Potter right now, and Potions was always with the goddamn Gryffindors.

He grabbed the knife from within his pocket and opened it up, bringing it to his arm slowly. He placed the knife on his wrist, moving the knife carefully across his skin. He felt the sting as his skin gave out to the metal, letting itself be seared open.

Walking down the corridor Draco repeated this motion on various parts of his arm, sometimes redoing a cut multiple times because it had not drawn blood. He felt the pain on his arm and forgot about the pain inside.

Draco walked up a staircase when some of his blood splashed onto the floor, but he barely paid it any mind. A few drops of blood lost, what was that to him? He'd lost everything and it didn't matter anymore, nothing mattered at all. He'd been so stupid to think it ever had.

Draco didn't care anymore that what he was doing to his arm was self mutilation, that it was hurting himself on purpose, and that once in his life the idea had been the most stupid idea to ever be thought up.

Right now all that mattered was feeling his arm burn. As long as it burned it would make him forget everything else, as long as it burned and bled.

"Harry, you sure you want to try it with Cho again?" Hermione asked him, looking worried. "I mean ever since fifth year you two have barely spoken one word to each other…" She sat down at a table near a cauldron in the Potions classroom.

"We haven't?" Harry asked, not knowing that had been the case, he couldn't really remember.

"Oh come on mate, you can't have that many holes in your memory!" Ron said, laughing at Harry's confused look.

"Harry I still think you should see someone about your memory, it's not good to just forget everything like that from a spell!" Hermione prattled like a mother hen to him, but Harry shrugged and shook off her suggestion.

"I'm sure it'll come back to me, Hermione, stop worrying." Harry told her. "Ron the Quidditch practice tonight—" Harry was about to remind him.

Ron just nodded his head and slammed his Potions book down on the table. "Don't worry about me, okay? I'll be fine… I really will." Ron said. He didn't sound too confident about himself, he never did.

Harry sighed and thought of ways to help his friend, but couldn't think of one short of giving Ron a potion. But that was really out of the question because no one but Hermione could easily accomplish that in this class.

They didn't want to lose to the Ravenclaw team next week; it would probably lose them the cup for this year. He didn't want that at all. Soon the class started to file in and fill up until Snape came striding in and bellowed at them to get a move on with making their potions.

Harry was busy trying to get through the Slytherins to the ingredients in the storage closet when he heard Snape's cranky voice over the small murmur among the class. "Where is Mister Malfoy?"

No one answered him, none knowing of Malfoy's whereabouts. Harry could have cared less about Malfoy's skipping and grabbed the two tongued dead lizard before someone else got to it. "No one knows?" Snape growled out again.

"No Professor." a few people said from the back, and Snape seemed to get grumpier as the class progressed, knowing his favourite student of the year had skipped, skipped his class. Harry on the other hand kept being criticized by Hermione to cut the lizard quickly and swiftly because if he kept doing it slowly they wouldn't get fine pieces.

"Why the hell does it matter about fine pieces?" Harry grumbled to Ron moodily, Malfoy's absence not affecting him in the least.

"No idea mate." Ron replied, trying to fix his nightshade root to Hermione's standards.

When Draco arrived at his dormitory, he quickly slipped in and got to his bed. Profanity had been spelled all over his covers and he had to spell it clean before he got in, not bothering to take off his clothes.

Draco's arm burned with a passion, but he felt satisfactory with the pain jabbing on his torn flesh. Red marks just starting to scab over marked his pale skin, it helped to remind him he was not a ghost.

Draco wondered for a second if something poisonous had been placed into his bed, but the fear quickly turned into a welcome invite if it wanted to kill him. 'Let them kill me, then I won't have to do it on my own again. And next time, nothing will screw it up.'

Draco settled down into bed, and found that it was safe for today. But he didn't know what would happen tomorrow, or any other day to come. He only hoped he could get out of the rest of this year alive.

Draco closed his eyes to fall asleep, knowing no one would disturb his sleep for now. They might when lunch came, but then he would just run off to the library and hide in his corner. No one ever went near his corner, even when Harry spent nearly every lunch there, no one disturbed him there.

But Harry would never come to his corner again, and Draco only felt his anger for the boy burn more then his arm did. He'd never fall for someone faking kindness again, no matter how lonely he ever got. He'd never be weak again.

Mmk, Review please! -hopes this was clear enough-