Draco Malfoy, a foot in both the Deatheaters' camp and Dumbledore's army, begins to pull away from the life he has been groomed to lead and embraces a family he never dreamed he could have.

Will be he able to start anew?

Or will the ghosts of his pasts continue to haunt him?

The seventh year is starting…

But this year will fly by in the blink of an eye.

Ron's poisoning…

Harry's meetings…

Dumbledore's secrets…

They all culminate in an event at end of term in which love will be tested, truths will be revealed, and lives will be lost.

And it doesn't stop there.

Don't miss the exciting sequel to Jackknifed!

The Other Side of Fate

Chapter one up now!

Now here's a sneak peek:

From somewhere above, Malfoy could hear the wind crash against the walls of the castle, rattling the windows and sending a chill down through its hallways.

The brackets into which torches were held barred chilled wind as the long wicks flickered, nearly dying as their red flame dipped low against the wax. Red turned flame blue as the heat was whisked away by the breeze.

Malfoy's wand, held close against his chest, was steady; its tip pointed a fraction out in front of him.

A sudden chill swept the dark hall and goose bumps raised upon his flesh.

Draco wished he hadn't left his cloak back in the Gryffindor Common Room, safely wrapped round his usual dozing spot by the fire, but there it sat. Musing, Draco noted how particularly cold it was at this time of night.

The cold…

Draco ran a hand through his pale hair.

He had more pressing things to think about then the cold.

Something had been making his hair stand on end for months- the whole year even, and this was probably the only time he would be able to investigate.

Malfoy kept his back against the stone wall, his body pressed against it as he slowly followed the sounds of softly padding feet down into the dungeons of the castle.

There was no turning back now, he was bound to figure this whole thing out sometime, he just had to bite the bullet and take the plunge.

Grudgingly, very grudgingly, Malfoy wished Potter would hurry back from his fool's errand with Dumbledore. As much as he had grown close to the boy, if whatever kind of thin trust there was could be called 'closeness', Draco was still reluctant to admit he needed help.

Still, he would have liked to have a little more wand power- other than just himself- if anything should happen.

He certainly wouldn't have asked Weasel to come; he had enough problems to deal with.

With Harry gone and Ron dismissed as a possible companion, Hermione would certainly had accompanied him, but that would have been stupid and Draco knew it.

If this… thing was dangerous, if what was going to happen would put him in harms way, then Hermione had to be kept out of it for as long as possible, she had to be protected.

Draco stopped short as he realized the footsteps he had been following had ceased. A breath shuttered from within his chest as adrenaline coursed through him, his heart beating loudly in his ears.

Slowly, Malfoy inched forward along the hallway to a cracked door. Hollow sounds echoed from within the room and out into the hallway, spilling darkness.

Draco sucked in a deep breath from between his clenched teeth and lunged forward, throwing open the door to the class room; it swung back against its hinge with a bang and the a pitch blackness emanated from within.

Squinting, Malfoy peered into the room, his wand lowering a fraction as he leaned farther in.

With a brilliant light, the room illuminated, blinding Draco momentarily, his hand not holding the wand flew up to cover his grey eyes.

As the room dimmed, Draco's eyes adjusted. Slowly, his hand dropped, and Malfoy peered over his palm.

He froze.

It wasn't the pure whiteness of the room that had stunned him.

It wasn't the large oak cabinet erected in the center of the floor, rattling loudly, that had caught him off guard.

It was that, standing next to the cabinet, in the whitewashed room, was a figure leaning against the wood- one hand on the handle of the cupboard and the other on his wand, his silver white hair shinning and pale blue eyes staring.

A smirk crossed the thin lips of the lounging figure, a dangerous gleam reflecting in his cold eyes.

Draco couldn't speak..

He couldn't breath.

Draco Malfoy was staring at Draco Malfoy.

"No…" Was all that issued from Draco's parted lips as the counterfeit Malfoy raised his wand.


And the world dissolved.