Lost

Lost

Lonely

I am bereft

Of my breath

And my soul

Without you

I am lost

Separate from

Reality

Dreams, wishes, memories

They spin around me

But they are but particles

Of you

I search

Steps forever moving forward

Wondering

Wondering

Wondering if I'll ever

Find you

And then I won't

Be lost

anymore

L ost

When love reunited equals victory, yet their hungry souls remain unfed

PART ONE

Prologue

"Do you want to die, Draco? Do you want to see the heads of your friends, rolling around like bowling balls? Or would you rather sacrifice Harry here, in exchange for a still existent world? You do know that if I let you cast that spell, you'll lose yourself, your friends, and possibly even Harry."

The laughter shrieking from that horrid mouth was shrill and torturous. Then, the merciless, twisted voice continued, "Or would you rather simply give up your power, and give up Harry, let the OtherWorld swallow you up, and then not be the cause of the world's destruction? It's your choice, Draco."

The slit pupil eyes glanced at Harry, and then back at Draco, saying, "This time, you're the hero, Draco. Don't let Potter influence your decision. It's all up to you."

And suddenly, as Draco blinked his eyes, rage, fear, and determination coursing through him, his control faltered...and he let go. The spell blasted forth from his hand, furious and destructive, and as he closed his eyes, cursing his accidental release of such power, everything became black, and he felt weak...but he knew if he let go again, the very person he held most dear would be lost to him forever. Draco clung to his last bit of strength, desperately, but then he was thrown backwards suddenly...And Harry's hand dropped from its lock with his...

"No, Harry, not you, I can't lose you again, no-"

"NO!"

Sitting up with a jolt, Draco barely missed banging his head on the bedpost. Cursing, confused, surrounded by pitch black, he trembled, trying to recover from the nightmare. Rubbing his eyes and finally taking a deep breath, he slowly lay back down, trying to erase the horrifying images and dialogue of his nightmare from his mind. Sighing, he fondled the bracelet on his wrist that he never took off; just feeling the smooth, cold metal against his skin brought back sweet memories...

"Harry..."

Enveloped by sorrow and longing, he drew the blankets around him and over his silver haired head; if only Durmstrang school had closed down two years ago when Karkaroff left...than he wouldn't have been forced by his parents decision to transfer...if he'd been able to escape, he'd never have arrived at this Hell.

The following stanza is the theme for Part One and represents the separation between Harry and Draco:

Once, as my heart remembers

All the stars were fallen embers

Once, when night seemed forever

I was with you.

--"Fallen Embers"

From the CD "A Day Without Rain" by Enya

Chapter One

Reality interrupts

Draco sighed, and closed the bathroom door behind him. He stood there, eyes closed, enjoying the hot, comforting steam surrounding him like a blanket. Shaking his head in attempts to force away a headache, he slowly peeled his wet clothes from his body, and then slid shoulder deep into the hot, steamy bath. Beginning to already feel the easing of his muscles, as the headache disappeared, he stretched out his arms to rest them on the bathtub rim, letting his head fall back.

He stared up at the ceiling, eyes not actually seeing the tiles of masterpiece works of wizard art above. His blue-grey eyes clouded, as he thought for the thousandth time that day, being here is horrible, but if only Harry was here, it would be near perfect. Leaving Harry had been one of the worst and best experiences Draco had ever had. Parting from his love had been almost unbearable to his heart, and telling Harry the news had almost driven him insane. However, the sweet words and gifts Harry had left him, and the knowledge that, in leaving Harry, he was protecting him, made Draco somewhat happy, and knowing he had done the right thing.

The other boy was unable to understand why Draco hated the large amount of power he possessed. Harry seemed to be naïve believing the idea that Voldemort would continue trying to kill just as he had the past years, in the same way. But Draco knew it was not so. The Dark Lord was going to attack with a vengeance, had already begun sending out Death Eaters. And he would eventually find out that the Boy Who Lived wasnot the other Summoner, and that it was in fact Draco.

As much as he tried not to bring up such foreboding thoughts, Draco couldn't help it. All his thoughts were negative; either he missed Harry, or he thought of impending doom. Nothing else was much worth his time, and schoolwork here was easy. Meanwhile, as he sat there, absorbed in wistful thoughts and warmed by water, time passed.

He'd just stood up to grab the shampoo from a shelf high above, when the bathroom door opened, revealing a house elf towing a pile of towels. Luckily, Draco's reflexes were sharp enough that he dived back down into the water before the house elf saw...much. He didn't think the house elves had a good enough memory that this particular one would have a naughty image stuck in her head all day.

Shrieking shrill apologies and stumbling over her words, the house elf bumbled, "Oh, sir, forgive me! I-I-I was just bringing in some new towels and I di-didn't know you were in here, sir, forgive me sir, Konny is sorry, so sorry sir."

Cold as ever, eyes narrowed, Draco gave a piercing glare to the shivering little creature, drawling, "If you were a Malfoy house elf, you'd be fired on the spot! And severely punished! Now, put those towels down and get out."

Scurrying to place the towels on a shelf, the house elf stood by the bathroom door, mumbling quietly to herself, ears drooping. Facing away from Draco, the house elf was unaware as Draco made a rather immature nasty face at her, along with an obscene hand gesture. How he hated being interrupted. Regaining his cold composure, Draco asked, "Well? What else do you want?"

"Sir, M-Malfoy sir, you have guests waiting for you at the room entrance."

"Tell them to go away and come back later. I'm busy here!"

The house elf's ears drooped lower. "Sir, it's the Quidditch captain and another person; they can't wait any longer, sir." Draco sighed. The Quidditch captain? I wonder if they've decided to give me back to Hogwarts because I'm better at flying than half their school? I wish.

"Alright then, tell them I'll be there in a minute."

-----*-----

Slipping his shirt over his head, Draco placed down the comb and walked over to greet his guests. Exteriorly, he was cold, calm, and elegant. His natural majestic air hung about him, and as he brushed a bit of imaginary lint from his coat, he was unbeknownst of the stares he got. Durmstrang wasn't used to such arrogant, attractive young men sauntering around school.

Looking up, and clearing his throat, immediately the picturesque boy of perfect etiquette, Draco asked, "To what, may I ask, do I owe the honor of your presence, Captain? Ms..." He couldn't remember the girl's name. She was one of the finest Chasers he'd ever seen, determined, talented, well bodied for the job, and extremely flexible. He admired those Durmstrang Quidditch players who seemed adequate for their jobs in the sport--such people were, in his eyes, quite rare. Especially at Durmstrang, he had often mused.

The redhead's eyes sparkled. Brushing back a lock of her short hair, the girl replied, "Moriann. Moriann Erbol is my name. May I call you Draco? Here at Durmstrang our customs of addressing our fellow students are different from at Hogwarts. Less formal, easier classes, but much more intense Quidditch games. We're really glad to have you here; heard you were one of the best Seekers."

The Captain, also known as Reginald Gorpin, or Reg the Egg (he was quite round) sniffed, nodding. His voice deep and booming, he said, "Yes, Draco, we heard you were a most excellent Seeker, and, in fact, I came to ask you if you'd like to sign up as a candidate for the position; the Golden Snitch awaits."

Smiling politely and taking the piece of paper and pen from the older boy, yet inwardly grimacing at the every misconception of Hogwarts he heard, Draco thought for a moment. Did he really want to be Seeker? Here at Durmstrang, the entire school took votes on who would take position, and there were no such things as House Sorting or common rooms. Worst of all, Draco was forced to guess about people he met, since he couldn't ask them what house they were in and thus get a general judging of their character. He hated others being unpredictable, and he hated being wrong.

But here at Durmstrang, the majority of his fellow students disliked him, and, according to them, he did everything wrong. It wasn't really that that bothered him though, what bothered him was one irritating fact: He'd become Durmstrang's scapegoat. Any trouble, and twenty fingers pointed in his direction. Of course, this was where his years of personality training kicked in, and he could simply wave it all away with a patented Malfoy smirkTM.

It was quite boring, stressful, and made him miss Harry all the more. He'd never have thought he'd miss Hogwarts, but ever since arriving at his new school two weeks ago, every letter H seemed to transform into the Hogwarts symbol--or the word Harry. And his magical pottery class had him bouncing left and right like a bomb about to explode; he was forced to stop himself from adding 'er' each time he heard the word 'pot.' Fate was really working wonders with turning his life upside down and making sure to pinch his nerves to make a bit of his control slip away each day.

And it was all so damn real!

If he could react to it like it was a tranceful, annoying yet soon to go away dream, he could live through it a while more. But with all the aggravating things bombarding him daily, this was a tough feat to accomplish. Deciding to give it a go, Draco signed his name on the paper, momentarily admiring his signature, before handing it back to the Captain.

Then, Moriann turned to him, and said, "By the way, Professor Horptz got angry because you skipped class. He said to give you this detention note." Snatching the purple slip of paper from the girl, Draco scrunched it up into a ball and tossed it into the wastebasket.

Crossing his arms and glaring at her angrily as if it was her fault, he barked, "I did not skip class. Why don't you people ever go over the possibilities here? You always skip all possibilities except the worst one. A kid who recently accused me of cheating on a game of Chess sneaked up from behind me like the prat he is and dunked me in that damn lake of yours. Quite a feat of him, to catch me off my guard like that. So I came here to take a bath and get a dry pair of clothes. Don't look at me like that! I can't stand you and your attitudes! One more word and it'll be the last straw for my tolerance! I'm sick of being everyone's fucking scapegoat."

Blinking up at Draco, Moriann took a step back, and then replied, "That's what it's like here at Durmstrang though, you just have to go with the flow." Draco clenched his fists tightly at his sides. They never understood him. When he got angry and corrected their reasoning, they thought he was complaining and being a pansy; the list of how many ways they could misjudge his words and personality went on and on! This was the last straw, by far!

Seething with hot rage that had been pent up along with depression and tough-gained self control for two weeks, Draco's eyes blazed a furious cloudy indigo. His hands glowed as dark red magic flowed forth from them. Lifting his arms up into the air, he brought them down with a swift, sharp movement, releasing a barrage of magic that exploded with harsh force upon the surrounding people and objects.

Slumping to the ground with loss of energy from expending power so suddenly, Draco closed his eyes, refusing to see the destruction he was sure he'd done. He didn't care if he got in trouble, or suspended; nothing mattered anymore, as long as he could fall into nostalgic memories and a world of unattainable sweetness and dreams for once without reality interrupting. He wanted to ignore the world and be able to dream in peace of bespectacled shimmering emerald eyes...