Harry Potter 1. Prologue

_A/N: This is actually, despite a similar beginning, an entirely different story than the one I posted earlier and one that doesn't make me cringe when I think about it. So, as a result, I hope it came out better and it is slash, but pairings will only result later. And personally, I hate OC characters sometimes, but Shannon is only in it because of the end of the story, I needed a character like her and thus, she was created. I suppose I could have done it minus her, but oh well. She doesn't have a major role, though it is semi-important._

_I hope this is enjoyable and read and review even if the review isn't good, constructive helps too and all that jazz. Wheee, I'm excited so I'm gonna go and hop around for a while. Ciao!!_

**_PS: I realized I forgot to add this. I realize Draco's reaction isn't entirely realistic in the second half of this chapter, but it will be cleared up later, this is pretty much a prologue. He hasn't had time to process or think or anything properly yet so have no fear. Angsty, whiny, teenagers will prevail!_**

_Disclaimer: I don't own it._

* * *

It was one thing to be roused from bed long before the sun rose for some silly reason like the house was on fire or there was some bomb going off somewhere. It was quite another to be dragged, most unwillingly, from the warm sheets by someone who clearly meant you harm. 

A gloved hand had wrapped itself securely around his upper arm. Actually, the gloves were probably a bit much, given the sunglasses and the black clothing. But perhaps the person was trying to establish a theme.

The hall outside his room was in chaos, candles vainly flickering, trying valiantly to illuminate the fighters. His captor dragged him away from it all, away from the familiar faces that had hated looks fastened upon all of them.

He dug his feet into the carpet, forcing the one who had grabbed him to double his efforts at escape. A great roar caused him to pause, staring at the crumbling ceiling and walls that had blocked off all those on his side. The teen smirked as his mother whirled around.

The look faded only when a rather threatening piece of wood pressed itself into his throat. The blond woman stopped, her own wand out, pointed at them. Her patience had been gone the second people broke into her house and she looked quite ready for murder. "Let him go."

"No." The voice was haughty and high strung and full of itself. Familiar and yet not.

Blue eyes blazed, blond hair askew. "Reginald, don't you dare use that tone with me. Let my son go, _now_, before you really wish you did not get mixed up in this."

The grip on his arm tightened. "I am already mixed up in this," he snipped. "There is no way out, it is service or death."

Using the time she took to think of a reply the captor shot a curse. She ducked, shooting something back, red light racing towards the pair. The captive was pushed in the way, body collapsing, head banging on the ground.

"Something new, Cissy? Quite inventive."

Blue eyes darted to him before glaring back at the man with midnight black hair. "Reggie, you have already gotten yourself in far over your head. Do _not_ drag my son into it with you."

Down the hall people thundered. Not the three or four from before, but different ones. Ones who ran with purpose, and the movements of those who believed that they had protection behind them. In this case, the protection of the Ministry.

The raven haired man glared, and his mother turned with a small smile on her face. She fell with the same smile on her face, frozen in death. The teen was already being dragged back up to his feet, away from the authorities. His legs tripped them up, refusing to cooperate. His head spun, the world graying.

Cold air blew against his back. One of the larger windows in the hall. He didn't turn, couldn't turn, could still see sightless blue eyes gazing at them. As a result he didn't think to duck, to move, to give any trouble to the man who had dragged him from his nice safe dream world.

"See you again, cousin o' mine," he whispered before something large, and likely very heavy cracked into his skull.

* * *

If he hadn't woken with the headache, it was assured by the sheer volume of noise in this forsaken place that he would have soon gained one. People, children, adults, teenagers, milled around. 

He sat, confined to a hard plastic chair, arms stuck together before him. The hours had alternated between dragging by and zipping past as he stared at the crowds sullenly. His pajamas, while beautiful to behold, far from warm.

He had managed to be ignored by those around him quite effectively until a small, rather pesty girl, planted herself before him. "Do you got any candy?"

The infamous glare that he had perfected at school failed to affect her. Instead, she crawled into the chair beside him, placing two small hands on his arm. "Are you stupid?"

"No, I am not stupid. However, you are rash and arrogant as well as a little snot," he snapped. She grinned lopsidedly.

"I knows. My brother tells that to me all the time! Do you got any candy nooooooow?"

He grimaced. "No." She shrugged, fishing into her own pocket and pulling out a half eaten lollipop. She grinned before popping it into her mouth. "Great, now please go away."

"No. Who are you?"

"Draco Malfoy. Now will you go away?"

She stuck her tongue out at him. "No. I'm Shannon Finnigan! My brother's sleeping."

Sure enough, the Gryffindork was curled on his own plastic, ugly, chair, asleep. He sneered before turning his attention back to the girl. "Then go wake him up and leave me be."

She sighed, small shoulders slumping as she dragged her feet across the floor and climbed into the other boy's lap. Draco rolled his eyes before a not too distant, rather shrill voice caught his ear.

"dare you! Six hours and narry a call and you expect me to calm down!" He smirked, correctly picturing the clerk's frazzled look as they rounded the corner. Marilla Zabini stood there, hands on her hips. "You act like he's some kind of criminal! Release him and let us go or you and I will really have to have a _talk_," she purred, using the ability of her looks to get what she wanted, when she wanted.

Her son only looked mildly amused, instead eyes scanning the crowd. He nodded at Draco, paused briefly on the bratty girl, before settling again on his mother.

Draco honestly could not have been more pleased to see anyone, ever. He nearly felt sorry for the ministry lackey who released him, if only because he knew how frightening Blaise's mum could be.

Shannon watched them leave, ignoring her brother who tried in vain to get her to settle down, waving her sticky hand in farewell. Draco rolled his eyes, following his friend who looked like he had been pulled out of bed as well. At least he had clothes to wear.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Haven't updated this in such a long time and yeah it's a little abrupt sometimes but more will be explained as it goes on. Plus his mental state is more than a little confused at the moment. Read, enjoy, review!_**

* * *

Draco woke with a groan, throwing an arm up over his eyes. His head throbbed and he groaned again, rolling onto his side. "Oh grow up," Blaise snapped.

"Shut up," Draco demanded, slowly uncovering his eyes. The curtains were all drawn against the sun, leaving the room dimly lit. Blond hair hung limply around his face and dark shadows were under his eyes. Gray eyes turned to glare at Blaise who was lounging next to him on the bed.

The other boy was as put together as Draco was disheveled. He was dressed in black slacks and a green button down shirt, hair styled, hands behind his head as he lounged against the pillows of Draco's bed. "Why do you look so…awake," the blond sneered.

Blaise shrugged, sitting up. "Practice, m'dear. Years and years of practice." He slid off the bed, landing lightly on his feet. "Now up and at 'em! You've missed breakfast and lunch, might as well make one meal, hmm?" he asked lightly, but worry was present in his eyes.

Draco shrugged, curling into a ball on his side. He wasn't in the mood to deal with Blaise, or anything at that moment. All he wanted to do was go right back to sleep, that had been suiting him fine before his friend had rudely awoken him.

A weight settled back on the bed and fingers brushed hair out of his face. "Come on Dray, you can't just sit in bed day after day. You can't let them win," Blaise said.

Draco didn't shake off the hand, instead opting for a cutting retort. "Your mum did."

He felt the other boy tense but that didn't stop his soothing ministrations. "I know," the other teen said softly. "You're all I have left Dray, don't give up like she did," he mumbled.

* * *

Draco managed to drag himself out of bed some hours later, dressed in loose black pants and a emerald tee-shirt. His hair was still swinging in his eyes, but at least it was clean. He had stood in the shower for nearly an hour, letting the water run so hot that his skin turned red, trying to scrub a week of sweat and grime off his body.

Blaise was lying on a window seat when the blond made his appearance. If he was surprised to see him up and about he kept his comments to himself. Instead he gave Draco a toothy grin and leapt to his feet. "Good, now go back upstairs and change!" he said, clapping his hands twice.

Gray eyes narrowed in a suspicious glare. "Why?"

"Because we are going clubbing and you look hideous!" Blaise declared happily. When Draco didn't immediately leap into action Blaise gripped one wrist and tugged him up the stairs.

Not for the first time, Draco lamented the fact that his strength was no match for his taller friend's. He also resented being ordered around, being in no mood to even contemplate going to a club. He knew Blaise was only trying to cheer him up but being surrounded by happy go lucky drunk idiots really wasn't his idea of a good time.

About to express this to his friend, Draco stopped himself, seeing a truly happy look on the darker boy's face. Heaving a sigh and letting the other know Draco felt truly put upon, he nonetheless allowed Blaise to dress him in tighter black pants and a fancy button down green shirt that shimmered in the light.

As they readied themselves for a night out Draco watched the tension drain out of his friend. Maybe he did need to get out, and even if he didn't, it was good for the other teen to take a break from his constant role as caregiver for an evening.

Blaise wrapped his arm around Draco's waist and before he could offer any more protests, he found himself encased by the crushing darkness before emerging out front of their destination with a crack.

Draco gave the club a disdainful look along with the groups of teenagers milling around out front. They gave Drack and Blaise angry looks as the pair sauntered inside without waiting in line. The blond gave them a smirk before being engulfed by the teeming masses and blaring music that was a wizarding dance club.

Blaise's eyes lit up as he surveyed the scene in front of him while Draco bit back a groan. He knew that while they started out this night together, it would only be a matter of time before Blaise drank himself into a stupor and Draco dragged him away from whoever he was set on going home with and put him to bed.

Draco planted himself at a small table, Blaise promising to return to him soon, with drinks, before his form was swallowed up by the crowd. Draco watched his dark hair disappearing before finally emitting a groan, letting his head fall to the table.

This wasn't where he wanted to be. He wanted to be far away from the youth of the wizarding world. He didn't miss the way eyes were staring at him, he knew people were talking about him. A Malfoy, fallen from grace. He wished he could ignore them, shrug off their attention the way Blaise or even Potter did.

All he wanted was to be at home, curled up in Blaise's guest room and not thinking about anything.

It was a few minutes before he became aware that someone had sat themselves at the table with him. He looked up, ready to tell Blaise to bugger off and that he could take care of himself, only to be met with a pair of unfamiliar teal eyes.

"Draco Malfoy?" the other person asked. Draco frowned at him, clearly at the disadvantage here. The other teen had brown hair styled to frame his face. He was taller and older than Draco and had brought two drinks to the table.

"And who're you?" Draco snapped. In all the years Blaise had dragged him with him to these clubs, he had never met anyone brave enough to invite themselves to his table, much less stay when faced with his patented death glare.

The older teen just chuckled, pushing a closed beer bottle towards him. "I'm Brink Edgewod," he said, offering a hand to the Malfoy heir.

The blond appraised him for a long moment before hesitantly reaching out to shake. He surveyed the beer for a second before shrugging, popping the top off and taking a swig. The liquid burned down his throat and he forced himself not to spit the mouthful into the other's face. This wasn't beer, it was firewhiskey.

"What do you want?" Draco asked after a few minutes of silence. He took another sip of the burning liquid to have something to do.

"Can't blame a bloke for wanting to meet the famous Malfoy heir can you," Brink asked. His eyes glittered as he watched Draco fidget under the scrutiny. After a third, deeper, sip from the bottle Draco felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. It was such a nice feeling after weeks of stress that he finished off his bottle and didn't object to Brink ordering two more.

"So, what do you want?" Draco asked again, trying and failing to glare at the taller boy.

Brink smiled down at him. "My aren't we demanding," he said by way of an answer. Draco frowned, not enjoying the feeling of being on shaky footing. "Okay, I've heard so much about Draco Malfoy that when he appeared in the club tonight I couldn't help but want to talk to him. Especially when you were looking so alone," he said.

The blond was now halfway through his second bottle. "I'm not lonely," he said. There was an annoying buzzing in his head as he worked to make his eyes focus on Brink.

"Oh, alright then," the brunette said, moving to leave.

Feeling a sudden surge of panic, Draco's arm darted out, catching Brink's sleeve. "I didn't say you had to leave," he added. His face flushed and he frowned down at his bottle of fire whiskey, missing the victorious look in the other's face.

Somehow, Draco spent the next hour being engaged in conversation with a boy he had never met, working through his second, third, fourth bottles of the potent drink. Somehow he couldn't stop the words from pouring out his mouth, no matter how insensitive Brink's questions seemed.

He told him about his childhood and Hogwarts and his rivalry with Harry Potter. About not wanting the mark, about Blaise taking him in, about not wanting to go back to school, and finally about his mother's death. After the last subject, the Slytherin's feelings had sunk to new lows.

At the end of an hour and a half Draco felt he had revealed far more about himself than he had had any attention to, and still knew next to nothing about his companion. He knew he was a graduate of another school other than Hogwarts, though he couldn't recall the name. That he was working in a shop in Diagon Alley until he could raise enough money to travel, and that no matter what Draco couldn't seem to stop talking to him.

As it neared two hours, Draco was feeling quite drunk, the buzzing having become more distracting, and the room spinning every time he moved his head. The colorful lights and loud sounds blended together, driving the blond mad.

Seeming to sense his pain Brink reached out, pressing two lime colored pills into Draco's palm. Gray eyes blinked slowly at Brink's face, feeling a decided lack of comprehension. "It'll help," the older teen told him and Draco nodded stupidly.

Later he wouldn't be able to explain away this lapse of judgement, trusting a stranger who he had never met just when the war was in full swing and death eater's gunning for his head. But for some reason he gave in that night, so full of liquor that he probably would have given into anything.

Draco placed the light green pills under his tongue, washing them down with the last of his fifth bottle of liquid. Not long after his mood seemed to improve, though he couldn't say why. Before he could ask Brink what it was that he had just taken Blaise materialized out of the crowd by his elbow.

Brink and Zabini glared heatedly at each other while Draco giggled helpless, leaning against Blaise's side. "Get lost Edgewood," Blaise sneered. "Leave my friend alone."

"Or what," the older boy taunted. "You'll sic your mummy on me? Like she'd ever raise a hand for anything other than another hit."

Blaise's grip on Draco's arm tightened painfully and the blond let out a small sound of discomfort as the darker boy dragged him out of his seat and towards the exit. Blaise was in such a state that he missed Brink brushing up against his friend on their way out.

Draco's head was spinning and he couldn't stop the occasional giggle from spilling out of his mouth despite his friend's dark mood.

"I shouldn't have brought you here, I'm so stupid," he muttered. Once they were safely out on the street he wasted no time before apparting the pair of them back to his manor. Draco collapsed on the ground, contents of his stomach spewing themselves across the manicured long.

Blaise sighed, noticing the tremors shaking the blond's frame. As he scooped up the too light boy he found himself glad he hadn't drank himself into a stupor. The blond's head lolled against his chest, eyes darting back and forth between closed lids.

What would it be like to be a normal teen, just once, he thought to himself, starting up the long walk towards his room.

* * *

**_Review review Review!_**


End file.

Harry Potter, Romance