Dying to Stay Alive- Chapter One

Author's Note: This story is slightly AU. The only real AU element is that, in the end of HBP, Dumbledore doesn't die, and in the beginning, Snape never actually completes the Unbreakable Vow. Dumbledore persuades Draco to become a spy in his own home (not with Voldemort, because he's not allowed at any of the meetings until he's an initiated Death Eater) and Snape convinces Voldemort that Draco still needs training, but promises that Dumbledore will be dead by the end of the school year.

Summary: Harry has some bad habits and one BIG secret, but he hides it all very well. What happens when Draco Malfoy finds out that The Boy-Who-Lived isn't who everybody thinks he is? Why does Draco seem to care? What does a person do when one of their worst enemies becomes the only think keeping them sane?

WARNINGS: Harry/Draco SLASH. Pretty Angsty. Self-Mutilation. Body Modification. Alcoholism. Smoking. Some Dom/Sub play… Enjoy!

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Harry Potter woke with a feeling of dread. He would be boarding the Hogwarts Express in two hours… going back to school for the last time. He sighed, rolling off of his bed and onto the floor, effectively waking his roommate at the Leaky Cauldron; Ron Weasley. He trudged to the bathroom for a quick shower, grabbing items of clothing on the way. When the door was securely locked, he dropped the glamour charm that he'd put into place every night since July 31st, when he'd finally left the Dursley's.

The bruises and welts that had littered his body were now almost completely faded. However, the scars on his forearms were as evident as ever. He knew that all he had to do to get rid of them was buy a simple scar-healing potion from the apothecary, but- he really didn't want to. They were a part of him now… He traced a finger along two of the more recent wounds and smiled to himself when he thought of how his friends would react if they ever found out. Hermione would likely insist on having his head checked or getting his institutionalized, while Ron asked stupid questions.

'But,' he thought, 'My head's not the only problem. It's my heart, too…'

He ran the shower, pausing a moment to check his reflection. He was still covered in lean muscle and his eyes were still the same vibrant emerald green, but his hair a bit shaggier. It had a habit of falling into his eyes, but it never fully concealed them. He'd grown a couple inches over the summer, as well, though he was still no match for Ron's full six feet and three inches. He'd also gotten his left ear and nose pierced, along with a tattoo of a teardrop with a crescent moon inside of it on his right shoulder-blade.

He stepped into the shower, allowing the running water to ease his thoughts away for a moment. However, they always came crashing back, just like the rushing tides. He sighed, thinking of the first question people would ask if they found out about his new hobby: Why? He didn't want to tell anybody why, truth-be-told. It would make him seem weak if he simply told them all he couldn't handle it.

He was only seventeen years old, for Merlin's sake, and yet he was expected to save the world from an immeasurably powerful megalomaniac, and do well in school, and be the perfect little Gryffindor. Hah! On top of that, his parents had died to keep him alive, only to be abused for most of his life by a whale of an uncle because of this very fact… and his stay at the Dursley's this summer had been the worst. Anybody in that situation would be a bit whacked in the head. However, those were only circumstances that led to his problem. He felt- numb… emotionally void.

He'd wanted to love Ginny- he really did- and perhaps in some way he had. But not in the way that he'd wanted to, and not in the way that she loved him. All he could manage for her was a feeling of companionship… camaraderie. He was her friend. And even that felt fake sometimes. He had so many secrets from his friends… he often wondered he could really call any of them friends. He'd built a wall around himself- or, rather, he'd built a wall around the rest of the world, keeping himself out, sheltering everybody he cared for from his enemies and his own self-destructive behavior. No matter how hard he tried, or how much he wanted to, he couldn't get back in.

'When you're numb inside, it's just nice to know that you can still feel pain on the outside,' he thought, a conclusion that he'd come to one late night at Grimmauld Place, 'When you're deficient… broken…you need the reassurance that you can still bleed- just like everybody else.'

He stepped out of the shower, towel drying his hair and body. He pulled on his new denim jeans, grinning at how low they settled on his slim hips, and a tight-fitting long-sleeved black shirt that said 'Simple Plan' in neon green on the front. It was the name of one of his favorite American-muggle bands. However, he figured that most people wouldn't realize that.

He walked out of the bathroom to see Ron already packing haphazardly. He smirked, beginning to pack his own things. He started with his books, then odds and ends, then his Invisibility Cloak, and lastly, his recently purchased brand-new wardrobe and 'decorations' as Ron called them. He closed his trunk shortly after Ron and they grinned at each other. They had just a little under an hour until the train left. They heard a CRACK from the room adjacent to theirs, telling them that Hermione had just left.

"Shall we go then?" Ron said.

"Yeah, 'Mione'll be ticked if keep her waiting," Harry agreed. He sent Hedwig to Hogwarts, shrunk her cage, and apparated to King's Cross Station with Ron.

X

They found a compartment at the front of the train, settling in rather comfortably. Hermione and Ron chattered animatedly about some inane thing while Harry sat near the door, resting his head on the wall and staring blankly at the empty space next to Hermione. He clutched his small camouflage patterned bag to his stomach. He didn't go anywhere without it anymore, and school was definitely no exception. He snapped out of his daze when he realized that he was being addressed.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, "Were you listening to me?"

"No," he answered honestly.

"What's wrong with you, mate? One minute, you're perfectly normal, and the next you're- all quiet and spacey," Ron said.

Harry shrugged. "Things change. People change." 'Especially when…'

His thoughts were interrupted by Hermione- again.

"I don't think you've changed," she was saying, "I think you're just going through a- dark phase."

This was the final straw for Harry. He stood glaring at her. "What would you know?" he snapped, turning and walking out of the compartment, "I'll be back in a little bit."

He walked up and down the aisle of the train, looking for an empty compartment and stopping only to grumble an occasional greeting. Several people remarked on his 'new look'- whether they loved it or wanted to know 'what happened to him'. He finally found one and slid into it, checking that nobody saw him go in and placing a quick locking charm on the door.

He set his bag next to him and pulled out a muggle CD player- which he had charmed to work in places of great magical presence- a set of earpieces and a small bottle of whiskey. He put the earpieces in, hooked them up, and hit play, glad that he hadn't removed his mixed CD. He heard the intro to 'Slither', by Velvet Revolver- another great muggle band. He closed his eyes, singing along with the lyrics that he knew too well and drinking from the bottle in turns.

"When you look, you see right through me- Cut the rope I fell to my knees- born and broken every single time. Always keep me under finger- that's the spot where you run to me- might see some type of pleasure in my mind. Yeah… here comes the water- it comes to wash away the sins of you and I. This time you see…"

Draco Malfoy stopped in the process of walking back to his compartment. He was sure he heard- singing. He followed the sound to a compartment at the back of the train and smirked. It was unmistakably singing- and quite good. The tone was deep, without being too- butch- and had a slightly harsh tone while at the same time sounding smooth and rich. That coupled with the lyrics sparked his curiosity enough that he broke the locking charm and entered the compartment silently. He was surprised to find that the voice belonged to none-other-than Harry Potter, who was, at the moment, gripping a small black bottle like it was his very life. He grinned, sitting down opposite the boy, counting on an interesting explanation when he realized that he had company…

"When you seek me you'll destroy me- rape my mind and smell the poppies- born and bloodies every single time. Yeah… here comes the water- it comes to wash away the sins of you and I. This time you see… like holy water- it only burns you faster than you'll ever dry- this time with me. When you look you see right through me- cut the rope I fell to my knees- born and bloodied every single time."

The song ended and Harry took a long draw on his whiskey, savoring the feeling of it burning down his throat. He opened his eyes lazily, focusing first on his bag, and then on the icy gaze that was fixed on him intently. He swallowed convulsively. He'd been caught- and what was worse, was that he'd been caught by the Head Boy, Draco Malfoy, his enemy from Day One. He turned the CD player off and pulled out the earpieces, waiting for the inevitable sarcastic remark… but it never came. He looked up at the blonde Slytherin, who simply raised one delicate eyebrow at him.

"Aren't you going to try to explain your way out of this?" Draco asked.

"What good will it do?" Harry countered, "It's not like you'll listen."

"Rather moody, aren't we?" Draco said.

Harry shrugged.

"No famous Gryffindor wit? I'm shocked," Draco said in mock horror.

Harry pierced him with a glare that would make Severus Snape flinch. "Make your point and get away from me."

Draco smirked. "Maybe I don't want to. I think I rather like it here."

"You're such a child…" Harry said, rolling his eyes.

"I'm so hurt," Draco said sardonically.

Harry sighed impatiently. "Was there something you needed?"

"Not really. I heard you singing and came to investigate," Draco stated, "You're not half-bad, Potter. Pretty damn good, in fact."

Harry's eyebrows shot up. "Was that a compliment, Malfoy? I'm disappointed. You've gone soft on me…"

Draco chuckled. "You wish."

Harry smiled. "I guess I'm not that lucky."

"Not by a long shot," Draco said, his eyes alight with amusement.

"Are we having some kind of civil conversation?" Harry said, clutching at his heart, "I think I've just gone into cardiac arrest."

Draco smirked. "It's definitely the apocalypse. No doubt about it."

Harry laughed.

"But seriously…" Draco said, "Why are you sitting here, alone, drinking that, instead of sitting with your friends like a good little boy?"

"They pissed me off and I wanted to think in peace," Harry replied, "Now I'm beginning to wonder if I'll ever find peace."

"Probably not. At least, not as long as you're the Boy-Who-Lived," Draco said.

Harry's eyes darkened and Draco realized his mistake. "Sorry. You probably don't need to be reminded."

Harry smiled brilliantly. "You're the first person to realize that. Thank you. I'm so sick of everybody talking about my destiny and what a prodigy I am. It just grates on my nerves that everybody seems to feel this irrepressible need to control my life…"

"I didn't realize how much you hated all of it," Draco said, amazed, "You really don't like the fame, do you?"

"I hate it more than anything," Harry said, vehemently, "I'm only famous because my parents died to save my life. Talk about bittersweet, huh?"

There was a moment of silence and then, "So, how was your summer?"

Harry laughed derisively. "Shit."

"Yeah, mine, too…" Draco said, "There's not really much good to talk about, is there?"

Harry took another drink. "Absolutely nothing."

Draco sighed. "Er… Sev went back to teaching Potions."

"Good. He's way better at it," Harry said.

"They've brought in some auror for DADA," Draco added, "Some Shackle-something or other. I can't remember exactly."

"Shacklebolt?" Harry asked, praying that he was right.

"Yeah, that's it!" Draco said, "Do you know him?"

"Kind of… he was- a friend of my parents," Harry said, "He's a pretty cool guy."

"Good, I'm sick of these awful Defense Professors," Draco said.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, both lost in their individual thoughts, until the train whistle brought them back into their heads. Harry looked over and Draco and brought the bottle to his lips again. Draco eyed it suspiciously.

"What exactly are you drinking?"

"Whiskey," Harry answered, "I swiped it from my uncle's place."

"Right… do you- drink a lot?" Draco asked, trying to keep the concern out of his voice.

"Nah, not so much now. Just when I start to feel overwhelmed," Harry replied, "Want a drink?"

"No, thanks. I'm more for scotch," Draco said.

"Sorry, I left that in my trunk," Harry said with a slight giggle.

Draco raised an eyebrow at him. "What were you singing earlier?"

"It's called 'Slither'. It's by an American muggle band named Velvet Revolver," Harry answered, "It's one of my favorite songs."

"Could I- er- borrow it?" Draco asked uncertainly.

Harry smiled. "Sure. I've got my new one in my trunk. You can keep it, if you want."

"Seriously?" Draco said as Harry handed it to him, "Thanks…"

"Yeah… keep the CD, too. I can always make another one," Harry said enjoying the way Draco's face lit up with pleasure. 'Like a little kid at Christmas…' he thought.

"I'd love to see the look on Pansy's face if she ever found out I was listening to muggle music," Draco said, smirking, "She's such an annoying little parasite."

"I thought she was, like, your girlfriend," Harry said.

Draco grimaced. "How could you think that I'd stoop to that level? She's not even remotely attractive."

"So you only date pretty girls?" Harry asked.

"It's good if they're cute, but personality matters, too," Draco retorted, "I'm not completely shallow."

"Sorry," Harry said, "So, what kind of personality do you go for?"

"The really cute, innocent ones," Draco said, "You know… the ones that cry easily and love to cuddle…"

"Right…" Harry said, sighing.

"By the way, who said I'd date any girl?" Draco said.

"What?" Harry asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Oh, come on, Potter… everybody else in school has figured it out by now. I can't believe that you're that naïve," Draco stated, "I'm gay."

Harry blushed. "Oh… I thought- I just assumed- sorry…" he finished lamely.

Draco laughed. "It's not that strange, you know. Not in the wizarding community. In fact, most witches and wizards are at the very least bisexual."

"Really?" Harry asked, thoroughly intrigued by this new information.

"Yeah. I'm sure you noticed that Finnegan and Thomas are involved," Draco said, "Since they are in your dorm."

"Well, yeah… but I didn't know it was so common," he said, sighing.

"Was that a sigh of relief?" Draco asked.

He blushed again. "N-No! I was- thinking about something else…"

"Has anybody ever told you that you're a really bad liar?" Draco said, chuckling, "Who would have thought that Harry Potter would turn out to be a pouf."

"I am not a pouf!" he exclaimed, a little too defensively.

"Oh come on! Be honest- has any girl ever really done anything for you?" Draco asked, "That Chang girl from Ravenclaw, or even Weasel-bee's little sister? Did either of them turn you on?"

Harry's eyes widened. He was right! How could he be right?

"I can tell by your expression that I'm right," Draco said, "Now, think of some of the guys that you know… do any of them strike your fancy?"

Harry's mind went through all of the guys he'd known, but the main focus seemed to be on Bill Weasley, Oliver Wood, Blaise Zabini, Fred and George, and- particularly- the very blonde Slytherin that had him questioning his own sexual orientation. He shook the thoughts from his head and stood quickly, corking the bottle and shoving it into his bag, which he tossed over his shoulder. He scowled at Draco as he turned and left.

"I'll be around when you're ready to talk!" Draco called after him, and then wondered why he had. 'I'm curious, that's all. I don't care about Potter. I can't care about him…'

X

Harry sat down next to Ron, silently fuming. How dare he say those things? He wasn't even his friend, so why did he think he could just assume- even if what he said was mostly true… 'No! He still had no right!'

"Harry, what's wrong? Has something happened?" Hermione asked.

"It's nothing," he snapped, and then sighed, running a hand through his hair, "Sorry… don't worry, 'Mione. It's really nothing, I promise."

Hermone smiled. "You know, if you ever want to talk, I'm always here for you."

"Yeah, I know," he said, "Thanks."

"And me," Ron added.

Harry nodded, offering a weak smile. "I appreciate it, but I'm fine."

He turned away to stare into space again, missing the worried look that his friends exchanged. They left him to his thoughts for a few minutes, before Hermione told him that they would be at Hogwarts soon and should put their robes on. Harry looked out the window and could see the lights of Hogwarts in the distance. He couldn't help but dwell on the fact that it was the last time he'd see Hogwarts like that… he was coming home for the last time.

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Okay, so that was probably the longest first chapter that I've ever written… in my life. Normally the first chapter is just filler and background, but… I dunno… I like long chapters. It makes me feel like I've accomplished more. I hope you liked it! See you soon!