"AVADA KEDAVRA!" the ice cold voice screamed as its peals of merciless laughter blended into the electric neon green fog. Harry Potter awoke with a start, his heart racing, scar splitting, doused in a cold sweat. He blinked rapidly, trying to erase the echoes of the nightmare dancing in his mind, as he reached blindly for his glasses.
"Here," said a voice coming from the fuzzed out darkness. Harry felt the cool metal frames of his glasses being pressed into his palm. He gently adjusted the lenses onto his face, and looked up to see the gangly, speckled red head he called his best friend.
"Thanks Ron," Harry muttered, still trying to shake off his latest night terror.
"Are… are you okay, mate?" Ron asked nervously, looking down into his lap, "You, um… well you were kind of shouting….a bit…"
Of course, Harry thought grimly to himself. As if the nightmares themselves weren't bad enough, he had to suffer the embarrassment of unconsciously acting them out for whomever was near. What had he done this time? Screamed, like the little girl, looking into the face of the scarlet eyed monster? Begged, like the mother, pleading as her very last tears dripped from her face? Fought, like the father, swearing to protect his family, even when he knew all hope was lost? Or had he been the voice of evil incarnate himself, laughing, as with a swish of his wand, the room erupted into emerald flames, and the cries of his victims were no more….?
"I'm fine," said Harry hastily, "Just a bad dream, that's all."
"Are you sure?" Ron asked, looking up at him, " I mean you look kinda pale and shook up.."
"I'm fine," Harry stated again, in a tone which clearly read 'Drop it'.
"I dunno, I mean, maybe you should go talk to Hermione, or McGonagall, I'd be sh-"
"I SAID I'M FINE RON!" Harry snapped violently, "Jeez, just bugger off, will you?"
Harry watched as Ron's eyes clouded over with hurt. He immediately regretted lashing out at his best friend, Ron had only been trying to help.
"Ron, I…. I mean…" Harry stuttered, trying to find the right words to apologize. Ron made no attempt to break the awkward tension. "Right, I mean… what I'm trying to say is… I'm… going for a walk." Harry finished lamely. Ron simply stared a moment longer, then shook his head, as he turned to settle back into his own four poster.
"Right…" Harry muttered. He really could see no other option but to go for a walk now, so he fished around for his invisibility cloak and his Marauders Map, the crept quietly out of the dormitory. He promised himself that he would give Ron a proper apology when he returned…
As Harry paced the long dark hallways of Hogwarts, he felt an overwhelming wave of stress grab hold of his sense of being. The echoes of icy laughter and terrified screams were still ringing in his ears. Why did he have to deal with this, all alone? Sure, Ron and Hermione were always supportive of him, but they could never really understand the pressure he was under… they never had to endure the screams that haunted his dreams, and see the faces of those who looked to him to be a beacon of hope, though he knew no more what to do than they did. He was tired of holding so much responsibility in his hands… He didn't choose this! It chose him! Sometimes he wished he could just find a sense of freedom, that for once, someone else would have to be in control… It was as this thought entered his mind, he suddenly noticed to door to the Room of Requirement appearing before his eyes.
Draco Malfoy had never felt like this in his life. This absurd need to hide away from the world, this fear of showing his face… he was absolutely miserable. He paced the floor of the ever changing Room of Requirement, only pausing to take notice of his own reflection in the dirty glass of an antique mirror. His normally sleek blonde hair had begun to look stringy and faded… his expensive black silk clothing had begun to look care-worn at the seams (though none but he would ever notice this). And his eyes… the looked so… dead. No longer did they carry a malicious glint of haughty superiority, the silver-blue orbs looked clouded with fear and faded with sadness.
How could he have been given this task? Killing the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, it was impossible! He was only a child, really. None of the senior Death Eaters had ever accomplished this goal, though many had tried… Why, even the Dark Lord himself hadn't defeated him! So how could they ever expect Draco to succeed?
"They don't," whispered the nasty voice inside his mind, "They want you to fail."
Draco shuddered at the thought of failure. His father was already locked away in a crumbling stone cell in Azkaban Prison… his family was looking to him to restore their honor before the Dark Lord. He just didn't know how. He hated admitting it, but he was…afraid.
"Coward," the voice hissed again, "You're a coward."
"NO!" Draco screamed, slamming his fists against the mirror, cracking its surface, " I AM NOT A COWARD!"
He forced himself to look back at his reflection… this pathetic mess wasn't even a shadow of the man he knew himself to be. He was the Prince of Slytherin, Draco Malfoy, a Malfoy for gods sake! He was tired of letting himself fall apart at the seams, while the rest of the world puppeteered him to their needs. The name of Malfoy used to command the respect of all others, and yet, here he was wearing it as a mask of shame... well no more. He would demand the respect that was his birthright to own. He needed to be…
"I need to be in control. I will be in control." Draco hissed, as his face set in determination.
No sooner that these thoughts entered his mind, did he hear the door to the Room of Requirement creaking open.
"What…?" Draco muttered to himself… how could anyone else be gaining entry to the Room of Requirement? As far as Draco understood, the Room was supposed to be suited to his needs, and his alone. As he glanced around, trying to identify the new intruder, he became suddenly furious that the likes of common filth were being permitted to infiltrate his domain… he had just reached for his wand, when suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a swish of silvery fabric being tossed aside, to reveal his emerald-eyed nemesis.
"Potter…?" Draco thought to himself, a small jolt of panic rushing through him, "But how? Why?"
Being stuck in a room with Harry Potter had never been exactly beneficial to Draco. Every encounter with the Golden Boy had led to curses, wounds, humiliation, and a god awful rush of feelings that he refused to confront… which usually let to hours locked in small rooms finding other means of escape ( which of course only added to his humiliation). He was sick and tired of Potter having this kind of control on him… Draco paused in thought, as an epiphany hit him like lightening. His very last thoughts before the door to the room opened, danced once more through his mind.
"I need to be in control…I will be in control…"
A malicious grin worked its way across Draco's thin face, as a wicked flame ignited in his silver-blue orbs once more…..
He knew why Potter was here.
AUTHORS NOTE: Oh dear me. My first fanfiction, and I decide to take on the wonderful world of DRARRY! It's like I'm begging to be shot or something! Anyways, please read and review, I would love to hear your criticism, good, bad, or mildly unattractive! I hope to have this updated by the end of the week... haha we shall see, we shall see... No I don't own these lovely fellas... as much as I wish I did... they belong to Queen Rowling. R&R! Love, love~Johnni