In Fate's Hands

Night Angel 101

DISCALIMER: J.K. Rowling, I greatly respect you. And therefore I must say that any and all names that appear in this story that seem like they come from the books, are not mine. The plot is original (or I should hope!), and any characters I make up will be noted at the bottom of each chapter.

SUMMARY: Sequel to "The Fear of Being Alone"! Will Harry finally get his happy ending? Will Draco find the boy he dreams of but cannot remember? Read and find out!

RATING: M (definite "coarse" language, future yaoi-ness ('cause I am a fangirl XD), and other things I have not thought up yet!)

A/N: For the request from njferrell and SwarmOfFanGirls who wanted me to continue the last story.

PROLOGUE

He tossed and turned fretfully in his sleep. A nightmare plagued his mind, the same one that had done so for many nights now. It was something he could never remember, except for a green light. And when he awoke every morning, he woke in a cold sweat with tears running down his face. And always at 3:00 in the morning. But tonight it felt different, stronger – longer. Sharp pain swept through his body at the memory of something but he couldn't remember what.

And then he was awake in a cold sweat, with tears running down his face. It was times like these that he wished he could find that friend he had made so many years ago. The one he never saw again. Drawing his knees up to his chest, he did his usual rocking motion. He had done it for years in his cupboard under the stairs – right up until he was eleven. And then the authorities had come due to complaints from neighbours. They mentioned screaming coming from the house and a boy who always seemed to be a little more banged up each day.

But they didn't help. They tried, but without proof, they couldn't help. He sighed and slowly got out of the bed. He winced as his feet hit the cold floor, and walked in pain towards the bedroom door. His uncle had been most generous the night before. Or so Vernon thought. He didn't think so. Every inch of him ached, and he still didn't know what he had done wrong. It had been like this for years.

But enough reminiscing, he though, creeping out into the hallway towards the bathroom. He always took a shower early in the morning – something he had always thought would somehow appease Vernon and possibly Dudley. It never did though. They always found something to blame on him. After all, he was a freak.

Feeling a floorboard creak below his feet, he froze. It felt like hours before he finally moved again, sure that nobody had heard him. He slowly closed the door, careful to keep it from creaking too much. Turning on the hot water to sooth his aching body, he quickly stripped and jumped in. Leaning against the wall of the shower, he closed his eyes and let the pain wash away. He felt the dried blood slowly peel off of his body. He always hated feeling that. It made him feel sick. There had been a period of time when he had been physically sick at seeing his own blood.

He had been six at the time and it was his first real beating. He had been trying to get all of the food ready for Dudley's party, but he could only do so much by himself. He had slowly been getting frustrated. Vernon walking in on him had only made things worse, what with all of his yelling and slight smacks. When he had started storming out of the room, his uncle had grabbed him by the colour of his shirt and dragged him back. Everything else was a blur after that. He had come up with a technique to make his mind not acknowledge what was going on so he didn't feel any pain. Oh, he was well aware that his uncle was doing unimaginable things to him, but he couldn't feel anything.

His technique was similar to his way of putting himself to sleep. He'd imagine a different life from the one that he already led. He would imagine himself running around with his parents in a bright green field right behind their beautiful home. He had always imagined it to be a blue house with white trimming and a black roof. He knew what his parents looked like, vaguely from a memory that seemed so very fictional. His mother had red hair and green eyes just like his own. His father he couldn't really imagine or pull up from his memory, but he wanted him to look like he did. At least then he wouldn't be as freaky as his uncle claimed he was. And then his parents would slowly disappear and the rest of his world along with it. When he came back to reality, he could feel the pain and see his uncle smirking with glee at him.

Sadistic bastard, he thought now. He had always seemed to get off on Harry's pain – as did the rest of them. He didn't understand why people had even considered putting him with this family. Opening his eyes, he quickly washed his hair and body and slowly stepped out of the shower. Turning off the water, he hurriedly pulled on a pair of boxers and jeans. Glancing in the mirror in the bathroom, he winced as he saw the new burns, bruises and cuts. At least there are no chunks missing this time, he thought grimly.

It was another long day at the hands of the insufferable relatives. Refusing to tear up, he quietly crept downstairs to begin cooking breakfast. Seeing the note on the counter, he picked it up and read it. Eggs, bacon, pancakes and ham for Duddy-kins, huh? He looked at the note in disgust. Toast, eggs, bacon, pancakes, ham and sausages for Uncle Vernon… Well, won't make much difference there. Noticing that his aunt hadn't written what she wanted, he could only assume it would be the usual for her – a plate of fruit and a chair outback to spy on her neighbours first thing in the morning. Yes, it was going to be another long day…

Blonde hair seemed to shine in the sun like a halo above an angel's head. Crystalline blue eyes glared out over the town. It was so horribly small. He wrinkled his nose in disgust. The only positive part of this trip would be his friends coming down. Maybe he could find some unsuspecting victim to torture as well. Well, maybe not torture so much as torment, he thought, his trade-mark smirk carefully placed on his lips. He couldn't see why his parents felt that this place would bring him back in line. At the thought of his parents, his eyes narrowed dangerously. They dared go to Hawaii without him? Well, he was just going to create as much chaos as he could here to ruin that trip. Oh yes! He liked that thought very much.

He looked at the person before him in disdain. These people were so far beneath him, they probably didn't even realize that they were practically crawling on dirt. Fuck the world! His glare was back as he saw more people coming off of the plane. The whole world decided that this summer had to turn against me?! Well then they can shoot me in the ass and call me a virgin! (1) Scowling, he waited for the people he was waiting for to get off of the plane.

Ah, here we go! Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott made their way towards their friend. He was expecting more guests later on, but he was fine with his closest friends with him right then. Seeing the look on the non-angelic-person-who-looked-like-an-angel's face, they knew right away that they were in for a long summer. As the boy turned around, he ran into a brown-bushy-haired girl.

"I am so sorry!" He shook his head at her panicked expression and just pushed past.

"I don't put up with filthy inbreeds like you!"

A/N: (1) One of my many curses I came up with.

Yeah, it's kind of short. But I've been much of one to make long prologues. Except for this one prologue I have that's like five pages long… But that's besides the point! I hope you all enjoyed this continuation of The Fear of Being Alone. In case you were wondering, this story takes place in their late teens. So they're between 16 and 18. It becomes more clear later on.

Now, I think you will find this little button at the bottom that says "Submit Review". If you could do so, that'd be great! Any criticism is welcome, but I warn you that if you do NOT like a romantic pairing of Harry and Draco, then you shouldn't be reading this to begin with. Just a note. But I still want to hear from you too… Is it just me or does it sound like I'm talking to someone normally? Hmms …. Don't mind the ramble, I do it a lot.