Lumiere

Chapter 1

Disclaimer- The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K.Rowling and Bloomsberry and blah blah blah . We all know , I am just borrowing them and will certainly return them back after I'm done  playing with them (for now) . That being said, do anyone even read these disclaimers of the fanfictions ???

Warnings- male/male relationship. ( That shouldn't be a warning , what else would you find this fic under DRARRY tag for ? ) Angst ! ( might be labeled' 'Flangst'  ) Might be triggering 
Pairing- DM/HP 
Era- Post-war
Hogwarts Eighth Year

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"Be." , he whispered.
And there was an idea of being. To be. An idea so large and hollow that it would slip and sit in the cracks where he had been broken and had to put himself back together....., so large that when it pulled on his chest , he cried out , screamed his miseries , pulled at his hair making them fall in a curtain around his tear-strained skeleton face.

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So young yet so damaged ! The 'statement' , though not spoken aloud , could be seen clearly in the eyes of the mind healer at St. Mungo's. The pity was so clear in her eyes . It sickened him. He braced himself to put on display his perfectly practiced sneer . Malfoys can NEVER be subjected to pity ! Oh , to hell with that !  Draco decided against it at last. Pity ? That was a rare emotion towards a Malfoy right now. The sheer hatred , the sneered faces , the not so gentle shoves in the alleys , the hexes and curses thrown ........  It was as if years of making life hell for certain messy haired , green eyed , saviour-of-the-world git and his minions were paying off ! He wondered , why , a witch , would pity him , smile at him like that , like you would at a wounded , whimpering animal! With a little shake of his head , he smiled back ,  much more cheerful than he was feeling , much cheerful than her. Clutching the parchment with the floo address  written on it he  sauntered out of the depressingly stark white room. I wonder if she's a mudb...muggleborn ! That would explain why she pitied a 'boy' , marked death eater, a 'soldier' of the wrong side of the Second Great Wizarding War (more like a spawn at the hands of the so-called soldiers of a  snarky creepy dark lord) ! No , not even that would explain this strange behaviour. The muggleborns were more likely to hex him the moment they lay eyes on him ! At last he agreed with the fourth-voice-of-reason in his head - like everything in this bloody mind-healing-crap his mother forced him into , Johanna was also a confusing , confused , forgive-and forget-kind of Hufflepuff soul .

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Nearly a year since the war , Hogwarts found itself bathing  in all her restored glory ! The September air fresh , crisp with  the anticipation of the welcoming of the new students . Yes , Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry re-opened . Prof McGonagall , newly appointed  Headmistress of the school , stood at the Astronomy Tower resting her palms on the railing. Her misty eyes didn't escape the notice of her companion. " Now, Minerva, I understand, but a new start is necessary. A fresh beginning. We can't let them die in vain. " Prof. Flitwick's high pitched voice somehow awkward , trying to make it sound huskier. The addressed  witch turned to face the wizard. " I know . I know. " Clearing her throat to get rid of the emotions gathered there , she added, "Did we receive the letter from Mr. Potter ? "
"Oh , yes . This morning. He and Mr. Weasley boarded the train earlier today. He apologized for delay in reply too , wrote that he still  didn't have an owl and it was Mr. Weasley's owl that brought the letter. So that makes thirteen students who are coming back to repeat the seventh year , is it ?  "
With a little affirmative  hum , she turned back to the magnificent view laid before her.
A fresh beginning indeed.

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"I wonder if Pig even succeed to deliver the letter . " Harry muttered absent mindly while going through the pack of Bertie Bott 's Every Flavour Beans. The earwax flavour still bitter in his mouth. He heard Ron huff. " He CAN do that now a days , you know !
"Yeah , sure ! " Harry grinned at his best friend. " Tell that to the heap of 33 undelivered letters by the barn door."
Ron snorted. "Blame your  godfather for leaving me with this feathery  git ! " Then , with a gasp , Ron snapped up his head at Harry , " Shit. I am sorry. That was....Harry...mate...I'm sorry. I don't know what I was.."
"Hey , Ron , RON , it's okay. We can't leave them out of our every conversations forever , you know ? " Harry placed his hand what he thought reassuringly on his friend's knee. "Harry , um , what are you doing ? "
" Comforting you ? " Green eyes met blue and laughter filled the compartment.
"You should leave that part to 'Mione , mate. "

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Draco Malfoy , the Ice prince of Slytherin , sat in silence, Blaise on one side , Pansy laying with her head on his lap. The two first years that dared to sit in the same compartment as an ex Death-eater currently busied themselves with a game of Exploding Snap. He watched them with an almost enthusiastic look in his eyes , when all that was playing in his mind was , how much time is left till I would have to redo my glamours ! He couldn't use  stronger glamours cause the tell-a-tale sign of magic could be noticed by anyone. SO he had to put up with having to redo them now and then.
He turned  his gaze to Pansy . She was even more worried about her return at  Hogwarts.  None would easily forgive , let alone forget her demand to offer Potter to Vol...Volde..him. Blaise , Draco and even Narcissa  spent days convincing her to come back and complete her studies and Newts. Having Death-Eaters parents who were rotting in Azkaban cells  , and no Newts wouldn't do good to her ! Blaise didn't have to come back , but , being threatened by Pansy , he did , in-fact , 'willingly' !
Now , for Draco , he just couldn't stay in the Manor anymore. Every room as if held the memories of .... so much torture...blood..... the pain.....  the snake eyed man and his hissed words as if still echoed in the hall ! Lucius was in Azkaban and his mother and Draco himself was on probation and house arrest , but Draco got permission to finish his studies. He didn't want to leave his mother at the hell-hole , but , he just couldn't let go of this  opportunity to escape from the nightmares and ruins.
But little did he know , nightmares followed him . Like a shadow looming overhead , it never really left him, waiting eagerly to strike again at the first sight of the vulnerable soul hidden under the masks and glamours.

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Nothing of much importance or excitement happened at the feast , except  for all of the so-called Eighth year students having to sit at a  separate table in the Great Hall.  If you don't consider the breathless anticipation when the only seat left for Harry was the one next to Parkinson , things were usually similar to the last six years. Oh , if you could kindly also ignore the fact that the whole population of First year students, and many from the Second and Third , continued gaping at him with awe , it was a fairly pleasant dinner with no threats from  certain dark lords hanging over his head.
Harry refused to look at the Teachers' table. The throne of Prof.Dumbledore would do little to assure him that nothing had changed, it was all happy and cheerful and .......certain Godfathers and Professors and red haired blink eyed half-twins weren't dead !
His eyes burned. No. Not now. With a couple of blinks , he drove away the tears. Focusing on the goblet of pumpkin juice held tightly in his hands , he didn't notice a certain blonde haired ferret-face watching him with intent eyes.
Later that night, the thirteen Eighth year students found themselves nestled in the common room of , surprisingly no house , but an entirely separate Eighth Year Dormitory ! Even their school robes had been altered, not really altered , but each having a Hogwarts logo instead of the usual house-crests . Harry quite liked it. The idea . And the fact that he wouldn't have to be ogled every time he decided to lounge in the common room couches beside the fireplace didn't hurt either. Hermione was going on about this being the perfect application of the inner-house-unity plan of Prof. Dumbledore. He intentionally tuned out after the mention of the old man. With a snort , he turned to the leather bound journal in front of him. He was acting like a hyper-sensitive teen ! Its been two years ! It should've been easy by now.
The journal was a gift from 'Mione last Christmas, among other things. She felt the need to drag Harry out of his self-hatred , self-destruction and other 'clinical terms' given to the simple act of keeping oneself out from the company of people and society and  what not ! Harry , as usual , tuned out her words. But he realized that she wanted him to write . Write what ? His experiences with journals hadn't been pleasant . In fact he checked her for Imperious curse in case this was another dark object , courtesy to  an ex Death eater ! It had been months later that he started using it. At first he just scribbled down favorite quotes and lyrics and stuff, then a few words that he couldn't tell anybody else, and it expanded from there. He  was always careful  with it too , keeping it under a Disillusionment charm and all . It held his deepest darkest thoughts now , including , but not limited to the pangs of guilt at breaking the news of his new-found 'loss-of-interest' towards  Ginny to the Weasley family , the heartbreaking sobbing after receiving the Black and Potter family rings on the night of his inheritance , the guilt and sorrow that clawed at his heart every time Teddy came to spend time with him .... The  first time he had the nightmare of the fiend-fire - which was a welcoming change from the 'veil-nightmare' and the 'great-fall-from-the-astronomy-tower' nightmare . And , of course , the excessive amount of self-hatred, self-pity and disbelief after the first (and the last yet ) futile  'attempt' of quitting !
Glancing quickly at his wristwatch , he sighed . Time to cast another glamour !
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WIP
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