Author's note :
Hello dear readers !
This is my first Drarry fanfiction ; I thought I'd give it a try. I had this idea of using this as a first step towards writing a musical (one of my future projects) : I am going to try to match a song with every chapter I post. Hopefully, I'll found the time and inspiration to write some of the songs ! I hope you like the story ; and don't forget to listen to the songs while reading the chapters !
I am currently rewriting all the chapters from the beginning, and reposting the new versions of it ; I wasn't at all satisfied with my work so far, so instead of giving you poorly written new chapters, I thought I would first try to start over the story I was trying to build.
As usual I apologise for any mistake you may find (and the long author's note). I'm not English, but I just love to right (and read) in English, so I just try my best. Good reading everyone !
Disclaimer : I do not own any of the characters, places, etc ; everything but my humble attempt at a story belongs to J. K. Rowling.
How did it end up like this ? The only thing in the world his heart seemed to want was standing in front of him, and the universe had made them ennemies. It hurt in the deepest of ways to feel the hatred he had for this horrible cause the other one stood for spread on the one he loved, inexorably, winning over his determination not to let it happen ; but what hurt even more was to see in those eyes that the one he had considered – did consider still – his soulmate had already lost that same fight. Those eyes burned their way to his soul ; those two stone cold, silvery eyes...
Two curious silvery eyes.
That's what young Harry Potter saw in his dreams most of the time. He would wake up with this beautiful yet mysterious image in mind, and the strong feeling that he should go looking for them right away.
He would thus try to remember any useful detail from said dreams ; clues to help him rebuild the whole picture and put a face on the owner of those mysterious eyes. Everything else was a blur most of the time, though. All he could make out sometimes, if he thought really hard, was a faint image of green surroundings bathed in golden sunlight, and a hint of white blond.
Harry kept track of his dreams and a list of the details he remembered in the morning in a small damaged notebook, that he tucked under the mattress of his bed when he he was finished writing. No one would think of looking there, nor anywhere else in the tiny cupboard under the stairs that was his bedroom.
He wasn't allowed to wander in the other parts of the big house of 4, Privet Drive – well, except to do the chores and receive punishment for things he was pretty sure weren't forbidden to anyone but him, like asking if he could have some chocolate, too, like his cousin Dudley ; a kid that was already large enough as it was, and didn't need to eat all that much more, if you asked Harry. Scraping the floor himself once in a while might even do him some good ; Harry certainly was not the one that needed to lose weight.
In fact, he was so skinny one could almost count every single bone in his ribcage, even with his clothes on. "No food until you learn not to do this" seemed to be the Dursley family's favourite punishment, especially if Harry was to serve them the food he wasn't allowed to touch.
If only Harry had done all those things he was grounded for, he might have felt differently about his mistreatment ; but he could never explain just how those things happened.
The chocolate bars he found under the table when he was forced to wash the floor after having made the terrible mistake of asking for some ; the telly that would never work for Dudley's favourite cartoons after he beat Harry up, and Aunt Petunia's meals, that would sometimes burn even though she just started cooking after she punished or insulted him. Not to mention Uncle Vernon's precious moustache that would simply disappear now and then when he got mad at him.
Harry didn't know what to think of all this. He didn't make it happen, though he did wish for it ; but it didn't make it his fault if it actually took place ! It wasn't like he was some kind of magician.
It always ended up in him being locked up for days, in the dark and without a bite to eat, while uselessly claiming he didn't do a thing. Even to Harry, though – not that he would ever admit it in front of his so-called family – it was obvious these sort of miracles were, somehow, related to him ; they only ever happened when he was hurt and were always in his favor. Never was he hurt because of a mysterious event no one could explain, unlike the Dursleys. It made him believe that maybe, someone was watching for him somewhere ; and at some point, Harry started to think it might be the mysterious eyes he saw in his dreams.
Those grey eyes, open wide in surprise at the sight of him, scrutinizing him, were the closest thing Harry had to a friend. He saw them so often that he had grown attached to their sight ; the familiarity of the image comforted him, and their warm glow made him feel safe.
But in Harry's mind, it was all they were ; eyes. They didn't have a head and face to attach them to, let alone a body. And a bodyless friend was a strange thing to have, indeed. So Harry started to investigate : he would discover just who was the person hidden behind those eyes.
Other kids – normal kids, living a very normal and blooming childhood – would probably play this little investigation game for a bit, then move on to the next mystery catching their attention, ever curious creatures that children are ; and the eyes would go back to being a simple dream, forgotten as soon as they opened their eyes to a new exciting day.
But Harry had nothing to expect of the next dawn ; he almost feared every sunset. All they ever brought him was more misery, and at 6 years old he already had had enough for a lifetime.
His dreams, on the other hand, were the most exciting experiences he had lived so far, and he wasn't about to let that go. It was more than just a game to him ; it was something worth fighting for, something to look forward to when the world seemed determined to suck every bit of hope out of him. His dreams were his safe haven, and the eyes, his protectors.
He didn't mind so much that he was just making all this mystery up inside his head, and that it was just a dream, something that would no doubt fade away someday. He really didn't mind, because these eyes seemed so intense, so real ; they made him feel scared, but curious, and somehow, he had that sort of certitude that they could only bring good things to his life.
They just had to belong to someone, didn't they ? And Harry would discover who it was. He would.
So he wrote everything down in his precious little notebook, everytime he woke up having dreamed about it, everytime he remembered something new. He called it "The Eyes Mystery". It made him feel like a detective, and he loved that. Nothing better than that awaited outside of his cupboard, anyway ; if he was even allowed to get out. He did not know if he'd rather stay locked in there against his will or live the nightmare that was being in the Dursleys' presence ; but he knew for sure that those eyes were the only thing to make him feel more peaceful.
And he would write the clues, draw the images, put the pieces together, on the dirty pages held together by an old and torn cover ; and wished with all his heart that another miracle would happen and lead him to the mysterious eyes.
Here comes the sun – The Beatles (Dream Draco to Harry)
Harry was in a forest. Not a thick and gloomy forest, he noted ; the trees weren't too close to one another, and the foliage above let a confortable amount of sunshine reach the grass.
Harry looked around. He could hear distant voices, but their owners were nowhere to be seen. They must have been gathered somewhere near, by the edge of the trees. There ; he could see their shadows from afar.
He had the odd feeling of having seen it all before, and more than once. Suddenly it occurred to him : it was The Dream again. Harry felt a surge of excitement, followed closely by disappointment. He knew what came next ; he would see the mysterious eyes and their equally mysterious owner, who would stare curiously at him for an everlasting moment, until Harry finally decided to speak only to be drawn back to reality before he could make a sound, and it would all be gone in the morning.
But no ; things felt different this time. Harry had a feeling this dream wouldn't unfold the way the others did. For a start, he should already be seeing them by now...
Suddenly he felt them ; the eyes, staring right at his back, as if trying to dig a hole into it. He turned around quickly, a smile spreading on his face, just in time to see them hide away behind a near tree.
His eyes traveled from the spot where the eyes had just been a second ago, to the tree behind which they were now hiding. A small, pale hand was resting on the trunk, and a few strands of white blond hair were visible at the edge of it, waving slightly in the cool breeze. Then an ear appeared from behind the tree, slowly, barely visible under the pale locks ; and finally, there it was again, a wide grey eye alight with curiosity, shining just above a rosy cheek. Harry's heart leapt ; he had found them. This time, they wouldn't go away, he could feel it. He would be able to speak, and he would remember. Feeling bold at that thought, he gave an encouraging smile and took a step forward, but the tiny figure crept back behind the tree in a rush. Harry heard his own voice rise before he realised he was speaking.
"Don't be scared", he tried, wishing he could see the child properly, and this time, remember their face. Very surprisingly, it worked ; though not quite the way Harry had hoped.
"Scared ?!" came an outraged, high pitched voice from behind the tree. Soon followed the very whole body of a young boy. Harry drew in a deep breath.
The boy was very thin, but not scrawny like Harry was, and full of a kind of unearthly grace. His pale skin seemed almost translucent under the rays of light shining between the high leaves ; except for his face, which was flushed under the smooth, blond hair, ruffled by the wind. He wore an expression of defiance on his pointy features, though there was a hint of hesitancy in his movements. He really was a sight to behold.
"I'm not scared", he added in a smug tone. "Malfoys don't know fear".
Looking quite taken aback, Harry pondered on that.
"What's a Malfoy ?" He timidly asked after a moment.
The other stared at him for a minute ; then he burst out laughing. He didn't seem scared at all anymore, Harry noted. He smiled sheepishly, ashamed that he didn't know something he obviously should have.
"It's my name, silly." Harry looked at him oddly. That was a weird name.
"Then why did you say MalfoyS?" he asked, insisting on the plural. "Is there several of you ?" The concept seemed to worry Harry a bit. The Malfoy smirked.
"Oh, yes, there are a lot of Malfoys." Harry's eyes grew wider, and the boy laughed again. "It's my family name, stupid. I'm Draco." And the boy took two steps forwards and held out his hand in front of Harry, who looked very relieved that there was only one of him. He would never admit it, but he hated the idea of other people meeting the mysterious grey eyes ; it was his mysterious dream friend. Harry took the hand and shook it happily.
"It's nice to meet you." Draco kept his hand for a second, apparently expecting something.
"Well, don't you have a name ?" He finally asked.
"Oh ! Well, my aunt usually calls me "cockroach" or "parasite", or just "him". My cousin gets "pumpkin", so I think I'm better off than him, somehow ; though I do live in a cupboard under some stairs..." He added the last bit as an afterthought.
Draco was regarding him with shock.
"Wow, what kind of a life is that ? You live in a cupboard ? With your whole family ? How poor can you be ?" The thought made him shudder. He had unconsciously let go of Harry's hand a bit suddenly.
"I'm not !" Harry protested, noticing the backward movement. "I mean... the cupboard is my bedroom. But my aunt and uncle own a big house. I'm just not allowed in much. They kind of hate me, I guess." He shrugged. The boy had lost his expression of disgust ; he looked rather concerned.
"Don't know. I never thought about it, really, it's been like that since forever. Knowing why wouldn't make a difference, would it ?"
"Were are your parents ? Why don't you live with them ?" Harry shifted unconfortably.
"Died in a car crash..." he mumbled.
"Oh... uh, sorry." Poor Draco seemed quite lost. Harry shrugged again. For a minute, they both stared at the floor.
"What's a car crash ?" Draco added after a while. Harry stared at him with a blank expression.
"Well... car accident, you know... it's when a car crashes into another car, or into a wall or a tree, and then the people inside are hurt and usually they die..."
Draco's pointy features reflected Harry's blank face. There was an akward silence, during which they eyed each other with odd expressions. Then Draco took a deep breath and decided to break it.
"Hey, wanna see something cool ?"
"Yeah, alright", Harry said. He followed with an interested gaze the other boy's movements, who had not waited for Harry's approval to begin. The blond kid was picking up a single leaf and held it in front of his face. Harry studied it carefully, but noticed nothing. He opened his mouth to ask what he was supposed to be looking at, when the leaf suddenly caught fire. Harry's eyes grew wide.
"H-how did you do that ?" Draco wore a smug expression.
"Can't tell", he taunted.
"Come on !" Harry insisted.
"Nah. It's a secret." Harry pouted, and Draco let a small laugh escape. "Here, let me show you again." And Harry watched Draco burn a few other fallen leaves with great enthusiasm. It looked like his miracles ; or even like magic. Harry loved mysteries, especially when it involved magic ; and they rarely did.
Now and then, Draco would set on fire leaves that were still on a tree, and Harry would protest. "Hey, don't do that !" he would whine. "The leaves up there are still living. And you could burn the whole tree, and the forest ! It's dangerous." Draco would smirk and ruffle Harry's hair.
"Poor little darling", he told him when Harry admonished him for the fourth time. "It's alright, I won't hurt your little forest." Harry pouted and crossed his arm, turning away from Draco.
"Hey", Draco said softly, resting a hand on his shoudler. "It's really gonna be alright, you know. With your aunt and stuff." Harry faced him. "We'll get back at them for making you live under the stairs." He gave an encouraging smile, which reflected on the black haired boy's face ; he had noticed the use of the "we" from his friend.
"And then I'll get chocolate without being beaten up for eating some ?" Harry asked in a small voice. Draco's smile grew wider, a gentle light in his silver eyes.
"Sure", he answered. "You'll get all the chocolate you want." That made Harry's face light up even more, and Draco ruffled his hair again, more fondly this time.
"Oh, crap", Draco exclaimed suddenly. "Father's gonna be furious. It's almost dark. He's probably looking for me now. I have to go." And with that, he rushed towards the edge of the trees, where the voices Harry had heard earlier came from.
He looked helplessly at the escaping figure, wishing for the dream not to end, almost forgetting it was a dream at all ; when the boy suddenly turned back and gave Harry a wicked smile. "I'll see you around, parasite", he winked. Harry felt the smile grow back on his face and he waved at the disappearing boy. His surroundings became blurry, but Harry wasn't worried ; that was what happened to dreams, after all. But the boy's features, this time, didn't fade.
That morning, Harry woke up with a smile. It would be all right.
I hope you liked this new version of chapter one ! Reviews are very welcome ;)