Black, Red, and Blue

Title: Black, Red, and Blue (formerly Changes of Life, a rewrite)
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Disclaimer: I don’t own them, and so forth, or things would have been different ^_^ erm, yeah. The plot is mine, though, along with… well, you’ll see in the future and I will change the disclaimer accordingly.

A/N: Hey! Coralynn here. Just wanted to say that I am in the process of rewriting this fanfic. When I first started, I had an idea for it. Now, everything is clearer to me, and I know what is going to happen, and when it’s going to happen, and how I want it to be. So bear with me here. I will not put up a new chapter, until everything is done being rewritten. I believe it would end up better in the end.

Thank you to all who are staying with me, and being patient (even in a “can’t wait” way ^_^ ). I love you all because you’re reading this ^_^ even if you haven’t reviewed yet, I understand completely. I know this fanfic is old (wow, since September 2004) and is still in progress… hm, life, gah.

Hm, though I think I’ll try to dedicate at least an hour everyday towards this, among the life and career that must take place, from now on. That should be good. I’ll put an alarm on my cell and tell Shannon to hit me aside the head when I forget, lol.

So yeah! New and improved! (AFF people, when they transfer over Changes of Life, I guess I’ll have to delete it) Enjoy!!!

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Emerald green eyes narrowed in concentration at the lines on the paper. A few more strokes of the dark colored pencil, and the picture was complete. Roughened hands gently tore the paper at the perforation, and closed the sketchpad. Laying the drawing on top, those same hands cleared up the scattered pencils before opening a black binder. The picture was then slipped into a plastic covering.

A boy, nearly 16 years of age, looked over the picture one more time. A thick forest gave way to a small clearing. The moon was round, bright, and shined down at the clearing. Near the middle of the clearing stood a skeleton of a horse, with a dragonish head and wings. White eyes stared down at a man on the ground. Along his throat was a deep red line, and trails of red traced down his neck to a pool of it on the ground, eyes open and staring at whoever looked at the drawing.

Gently closing the binder, the black haired boy traced a finger over the silver snake adorning the cover of the binder. He sighed and closed his eyes. Even the darkness did nothing to ease his somber feeling as soon he saw flashes of a woman running. Golden hair flowing behind her, blood dripping from her arm.

Harry opened his eyes quickly, not wanting to know what happened with her.

Harry Potter. The boy-who-lived. The one who could save them all was mourning. At least, he was trying to. Other things were going on at the same time that he never could dwell on it for too long. Dreams, visions that had nothing to do with Voldemort, and his so called family kept him occupied.

Harry stood from the small desk and gathered his drawing supplies and the binder. He opened the loose floorboard and added them to the rest of his most precious belongings. After making sure the floorboard was in place again, he moved to the window and looked, past the once again newly added bars, to the darkened sky. The raindrops kept falling. A day and a half later, and they were still falling. That in itself was an odd occurrence.

He raised his right arm and pressed his fingertips lightly to the window. He felt the cooler surface, and it seemed to travel up his arm. His eyes followed the path and stopped halfway up his forearm on a scab. He drew up his other arm to lightly press against it before his eyes traveled further up his arm. There were about five more before reaching the cut off sleeve of the too big and dirty shirt.

Dropping both arms, he turned and walked to his door. A whispered ‘alohomora’ later and he was tiptoeing down the hall. About two doors later, he quietly opened the slightly ajar door and peered through. His aunt’s heavy frame was sleeping quite loudly, and he quietly closed the door to where it was; now walking down hall. He needed a shower. And he needed to wash the clothes he was wearing, as his uncle confiscated his trunk after a week of being back at the house.

Five days without them in the house, one trip out, and he still couldn’t find it. He only stole a bit of money from Dudley’s room for his trip out and managed to buy his drawing supplies. He couldn’t be gone for long, as his Aunt Marge was only taking a nap in front of a show. The three that originally lived in this house had gone to America for two weeks. They left Marge to make sure Harry stayed in line. The only times Harry could do anything for himself was when Marge was sleeping.

Reaching his destination, Harry closed and locked the door with a simple locking spell. He found early in the summer that he could do very light magic without being reprimanded for it. Harry turned the taps for the right temperature, and stripped his clothing, taking the clothing into the shower with him, leaving his wand close, but out of the shower.

First he washed his clothes, then his body and hair, taking care around the healing wounds over his body. He worked quickly so he was done in 15 minutes. After turning the taps off, he shook his head and ringed out his clothes, stepping out of the shower and redressing himself. He wouldn’t be able to do a drying, nor a warming charm, but he felt refreshed. He unlocked the door and went back to his room.

There was still an hour before his aunt would wake, and knew the wetness on the floor from his walk back would be gone by then.

He lay on the floor, so not to get his bed wet, staring at the ceiling and wondered once again why no one stayed in contact with him. Why no one was checking up on him like they promised. Why he had to go through this. Why alone?

Today was his birthday, if he had been up to date with his calendar. He knew nothing special would happen today. No presents and no special treatment. He closed his eyes for a brief second before remembering the visions and quickly opened them again. He felt tired again. He only had maybe 3 hours of sleep due to the dreams and visions keeping him awake. Sometimes there was no escaping the visions, but fortunately, he had time now.

And he could only think about Sirius. How things would be different if he was still there. How he wouldn’t have to be going through this. But something nitpicked at him in the back of his mind. Something wasn’t right. It was telling him he shouldn’t be sad. He shouldn’t be mourning his godfather’s death. There was too much going on, and only certain things mattered.

How was he to listen to that little voice in his head? It was making him confused. How would he know any of that? What was going on? Harry felt lost, and trapped inside the house. Yet at the same time, he didn’t know where else to go. He felt bitter at those who lied to him. Those who should be protecting him and writing to him. He couldn’t go to any of their houses. He wouldn’t.

He turned his head slightly to look out the window. The sky was lightened slightly. The thick grey rain clouds still covered most of the sky, but the sun was out. If he were to stand up and look out the window, he would probably see a sliver of the sun over the horizon before the clouds blocked his view.

At first the sun rises was something to look forward to. Another day, another chance. Now it only reminded him of how each day was as bad as the last. How time was passing by and nothing was changing. Nothing was getting better.

Harry heard a ‘thump’ and knew his aunt had woken up. Taking a deep breath, Harry stood up and stretched from lying on the ground, checking his clothes and hair. They weren’t wet enough for his aunt to really notice, but if she were to touch his clothes, she would know.

He left his room and went down stairs to start breakfast. It was one of the only ways he could eat. To sneak a piece into his mouth when no one was looking. They no longer bothered feeding him. His Aunt Petunia would give him a pitcher of water every morning by his door, with a small glass.

She wasn’t as harsh with him as her husband was. The one who gave Harry his wounds. Lashing out with his belt. Most of the time, because he could reach it, a cord. As if from a telephone wire or something. One end was cut, frayed even, so the metal from the wires stuck out.

Dudley was too busy with his own thing, and wouldn’t grasp the concept to care enough. Petunia turned a blind eye to it. She left him some gauze and ointment, but said nothing. No one would help him. He couldn’t use magic. He’d already gotten in trouble with the damn ministry before, and that was only for accidental magic. Somehow, Harry didn’t think they’d care if he used it in self defense or not.

His summer had been hell, and he was actually grateful it was just his Aunt Marge here now. She wasn’t nice. Far from it, but she was better than Vernon. At least by a little bit, it was still a nice change from the cord.

That would be why Harry didn’t cry out. Didn’t make one single noise, when his Aunt’s fat hand came in contact with his face, causing him to fall to the floor. When his malnourished body swayed while trying to get back up, and his vision blurred, he managed to keep himself from falling again.

“It’s cold, you insolent brat! Fix it!” She spoke harshly, overlooking the fact that Harry was, in fact, not showing any insolence.

Sighing, Harry took the plate. He thought to himself. Today was his birthday. He could either make it worse by having at least today for himself, or he can do as he was told and wait, just like every day, for the opportune moment, whenever it came. The thought crossed his mind to just cast a warming spell on the food. The food was already warm, it just wasn’t *hot*.

Harry was going to do it before he remembered he left his wand upstairs, so it wouldn’t get wet. It was probably better that he didn’t, anyway.

“Get me some fresh, would you? Throw that away.” When Harry looked at his aunt, he saw her smirk. He did as he was told, feeling anger well up inside of him again. She would waste food while he was here… having hardly eaten anything.

Getting back to work, Harry took another deep breath. Him getting worked up is probably exactly what she wanted. He knew. He had a problem with his temper before. The beatings taught him better control of it. If there was one thing that was good about this whole situation, that was it.

Serving her the steaming hot food, and a glass of orange juice, he left the room. He was not going to stand around and wait for her next order.

He was halfway up the stairs again when he felt a sudden wave of dizziness. He grabbed on to the banister, but his grip slackened when blackness overtook him and he had the feeling of falling before everything else melted away.

***

He saw the same woman from before. She tripped and just lay on the ground for a bit before rolling over to her back. A cloaked man slowly walked up to her, lowering the hood on his cloak to see orangish-red hair. He looked down at her, a gun pointed straight at her head.

“Go on, Isaac.” The woman spoke, out of breath, and pausing a bit to cough up some blood. Looking closer, Harry could see she also had a wound on her upper right chest. Her eyes narrowed and she spoke harshly again. “Kill me. You know you want to. So go ahead!”

Isaac just looked away from her, to a shadow in the alley. The woman’s eyes followed his, and was surprised to see another man step out from the shadows. She gasped. “You wouldn’t!”

“Sarah…” Isaac finally spoke, shaking his head some as if he was ashamed of her.

The other man made a quick move with his hand. Harry couldn’t catch what he did, but the woman’s eyes now stayed open. Lifeless.

“It’s already done.” Isaac finished.

For some unknown reason, Harry wasn’t shocked. He was surprisingly calm for all of it, and he felt no urge to help her while she was still alive.

Suddenly, without any warning, nor knowing from whom as the alley was empty only moments ago, Isaac was stabbed in the back, in which a gush of blood instantly came out of his mouth. And suddenly Harry was Isaac. Only seeing through blurry eyes a look of pure rage on the other man’s face. Choking on the blood in his throat, it felt as slow motion as he fell to the ground. The haunting whisper of words ringing in his head before there was no more. “Fools. There are more.”

Then he felt light. As if in space. Weightless. He found he could move and looked around, though could see nothing.

It didn’t last long before another place filled his vision. Straight ahead of him was a huge house. He could have called it a small mansion. To his right and behind him was a forest, but everything else were plains.

He started to walk to the house, but something caught his eye at the forest’s edge. Two men, one with dark blond hair, the other with long auburn/brown hair. They were talking, but faded away. Didn’t walk away, just faded.

Shaking his head, as if to clear it, Harry continued walking to the ‘house’. The grass was damp and crisp. It crunched under his feet as he walked, and the sun shone warm on his face.

He didn’t notice the half naked body lying on the ground until he was only a few feet from it. He continued walking to the body, and leaned over it some. It was definitely a boy. He only had a pair of lightweight pants on, and toned body. Harry found himself wanting to trace his fingers over the pale boy. Then he took notice of the hair, and the eyes opened to reveal icy blue.

Draco Malfoy sat up quickly, at the same time, a shocked Harry sat down. A light pink dusted Draco\'s cheeks before he reached to his side and pulled his shirt on, not caring how mussed up his hair must be by now. He narrowed his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“Um…” Harry tried to remember, but he couldn’t. All he remembered was his vision. Maybe this was just one of his visions too. He wanted to bite something back, but found his mind was too preoccupied with the way the blond looked, laying on the ground, without a care. And oh that body!

Draco saw the way Harry looked like he was out of it. He looked around before landing his eyes on Harry again. “…Harry?”

Harry seemed to snap out of that. Why would Draco *Malfoy* be saying his first name? He just looked at Draco, with that slightly confused look. Draco was shaking his head ever so slightly before Harry found himself with his back on the grass, and Draco’s lips pressed to his. Hands were pinning his shoulders down, and for a while, Harry was too shocked to do anything.

Draco’s body was warm on top of his, and a hot persistent tongue kept flicking at the dark haired boy’s lips. Wanting, no, *needing* more. “Please, Harry…”

Draco’s whisper seemed to trigger Harry into action. He flipped them over and Draco immediately wrapped his legs around Harry’s hips, grinding his growing erection into Harry.

That was the only thing Harry needed before he kissed Draco. Hard. Hearing the blond whimper under him, Harry deepened the kiss and pressed himself down more to trap Draco between himself and the ground.

Their eyes closed somewhere along the line, and their skin felt like it was on fire. Their slick tongues running along the other’s, bodies pressed tightly together, and Draco’s little noises that drove Harry wild.

Unfortunately, Harry had to break the kiss as they both panted for breath. Draco whispered his name and it wasn’t long before Harry started kissing the pale neck, nipping it lightly to make a small mark that faded quickly. Draco was rocking against Harry now.

Harry gasped as Draco’s arousal brushed against his own and he lifted from Draco’s body slightly. Draco tightened his grip around Harry’s hips, which in turn made his ass lift from the ground. Harry looked down at Draco and found he liked the arch in Draco’s body. Draco’s shirt started to ride up a little and Harry was drawn to the skin. He pressed his fingertips on the blonde’s stomach and lightly pressed down before sliding his hand up, taking the shirt with him.

Draco moved his hands from behind Harry’s neck in order to take his shirt off the rest of the way. “I want to see you.” He whispered, tugging at Harry’s shirt.

Harry had a sudden thought go through his head about his malnourishment, scars, and how he didn’t look so well in the shower this morning, but the same instinct that had him doing this with Draco, had him taking off his shirt.

Draco let out a quiet gasp and trailed his fingers over Harry’s chest.

Harry looked down at himself and was surprised to see that he looked different. He looked like he did after leaving Hogwarts for the summer. Well fed, toned from quidditch, and no scars. Then he remembered how he came here to begin with and figured it was a dream. That thought left him to relax again and just enjoy it. He’d think about it when he woke.

His breath caught as Draco fingers brushed over his nipples. He looked down at Draco’s face to see the blond biting his lip lightly, staring at Harry’s nipples hardening under Draco’s toying. Harry liked that look on Draco’s face and bent his neck to capture Draco’s lips, overtaking his mouth once again.

Draco trailed his hands around to Harry’s back and down to the waistband of his pants. He let his legs drop down and broke from the kiss to whisper. “Touch me.”

Not wanting to disappoint Draco, nor himself, he did so. He let his right hand brush along the curve of Draco’s neck, down his shoulder, over his chest, flicking at each nipple before continuing. Down the flat stomach to meet the waistband of the pants.

Draco caught Harry’s eyes, seeing the slight nervousness there. “Please, Harry. I need…”

With Draco’s words, Harry reminded himself it was just a dream. He glanced down at the bulge in Draco’s pants before looking back in his silvery eyes. He undid the fastenings on Draco’s pants before slipping past the band of the boxers to wrap his hand around the heated arousal. He watched as Draco closed his eyes and, gasping, arched into Harry’s touch.

Harry tightened his hold slightly when he moved so he was on his knees. He started to slowly stroke Draco while he grabbed the closest shirt, which happened to be his. He used both his hands (causing Draco to make a small little noise at the loss) to lift Draco slightly, putting the shirt underneath him and slipping his pants and boxers down some for easier access.

He started stroking Draco again before he looked his way up the boy’s body back to his eyes. Draco’s eyes were now opened and looking down at him. Harry looked into them again and spoke before he knew what he was saying. “You’re gorgeous.”

Draco started running his hands up and down Harry’s thighs through the material. “Harry…” He spoke softly before Harry tightened his hold some, causing him to moan.

Harry felt something weird just then. As if the atmosphere around him changed.

“Harry…” Draco spoke again. “Hurry, there’s not much time.” Even as he spoke, he trailed his hands to the front of Harry’s pants and undid the button and zipper, pushing them down slightly and taking Harry’s length in his hand.

Together, they made a rhythm that had both moaning and gasping the other’s name. Harry kept his other hand on Draco’s chest and Draco kept his other hand on Harry’s thigh, gripping there.

All too soon, they came. Draco first. Harry came after the noises Draco made and the look on his face. Their cum mixed together on Draco’s pale chest before Harry fell on top of him, kissing him lightly. Their eyes met one more time before both faded away.

***

Draco woke, and sat up in confusion before remembering it was just a dream. It was night now, but he was in no hurry to go back to the manor. He looked down to his lap, feeling the stickiness there, as he had come in his pants. He grabbed his wand and cleaned himself up before putting his shirt on. No matter how long he stayed in the sun, he never tanned. He lay back down again and covered his eyes with his arm, just breathing. It had felt so real this time…


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A/N: Even if you reviewed my other story, I\'d love to hear from you again. I made many changes, and would love to hear from anyone, whether it\'s the first time or not.

Love you all! ^_^ (though in a total platonic way, lol)