Disclaimer: I do NOT own Harry Potter!

A/N: Okay people, this is a SLASH. Spell it out with me: S-L-A-S-H. That spells SLASH! Dictionary: slsh okay? That is MALE MALE pairings. In this case it is HARRY AND DRACO. As in HARRY POTTER and DRACO MALFOY. AS IN GOLDEN BOY AND PRINCE OF SLYTHERIN! YES, I know this will NEVER happen, OKAY? That is why this is called FAN FICTION! Now, that is about EIGHT warnings, plus two on the summary. So if you don't like SLASH, (b/c this is SLASH-there, NINE) DO NOT READ THIS STORY! I do NOT want to see any flames from pathetic homophobic's who DO NOT LIKE that Harry is GAY in this fic (b/c he is-there TEN) GOT IT?

Also, warnings: Dark, Blood, Cutting, SLASH (ELEVEN!)

If that is not 'your ship' than get on a DAMN plane, you git!

Rain: Morons.

**huff huff** OKAY! There, we are done with the hostile rambling! Above was my muse, Rain. She is...dark. No wonder she inspires me! MUAHAHAHAHA!

Okay, I hope everyone likes this fic!


Okay, it's out of my system! Enjoy!

/ = thoughts.

- = flashback.



Chapter One: Chastity



What a funny word. Clean. Untainted. Chastity.


That's what they call him. Pure. Perfect. The Golden Boy. He can not do anything wrong. How could he? He was Gryffindor pride.

He's just to fucking pure.

But he's never considered himself pure. Do you know why? Because he's not. He was never pure.

Perhaps he was, once. Once upon a time...Back when he was small, so little he wasn't even aware of himself yet. When he didn't know that the world extended past the backyard. So small that he wasn't aware that you could be anything BUT innocent.

Maybe then.

Maybe then, he was pure. He was innocent. Maybe then.

But not now.

Sure, he used to think it. But then the day came the day that he realized he wasn't pure. The first time he knew that he would never be innocent.

It was his second birthday.

So young...


"BOY!" The shout tore through the hall, reaching Harry Potter's ears. He was only two.

It was his second birthday, actually. Not that it really mattered. Today was like any other day, if not worse.

"Yes, uncle?" The frightened two-year old squeaked, peering down the stairs.

The giant man pounded up the stairs, his eyes angry. Young Harry ran into his room, diving on his bed, covering his head with a pillow, as though hiding the world.

Oh, what could his uncle want this time?

He felt a strong, meaty pair of hands wrap around his ankles. He screamed as the hands yanked him backwards, and he flew off the bed. The man who was supposed to be his 'loving uncle' dropped him on the floor, standing over him, staring at him with pure hatred.

The boy cowered on the floor, his small arms wrapped around his head, his small body shaking. The large man kicked the boy hard in the stomach, and he let out a small cry of pain.

The cry seemed to enrage his uncle further, and he began beating him harder. He flew at the boy, his fists whirling in unspeakable rage.

When Uncle Vernon had seemingly pounded out all of his anger, he stood up over the bleeding boy, and wiped a small trail of spit that had been running down from his lips.

"Listen to me, boy," the man had growled, "you are nothing without us. We keep you alive. You are scum. Nothing. You are trash. Mere litter on the highway. Crap. Do you understand?"

Harry had remained silent, trembling, biting his lip, tears running down his face.

"Do you understand?!" His uncle had roared, slamming his foot into Harry.

"Y-yes. Yes sir." Harry had whimpered.

His Uncle, with a menacing look had left the room. At the time, Harry didn't know what he had done to cause his Uncle to beat him so. Later, he found that Vernon had lost his job. And he blamed Harry.

He was only two...


The present day Harry gave a small snort.

A lot of things had changed since then.

He didn't believe his uncle, not anymore.

Never again.

He knew he was something without him. That they didn't keep him alive, that he kept himself alive. It had always been that way.

This was the fifth summer. Six year wouldn't start for a while.


Not that he truly looked forward to going to school. Sure, he had friends there. But he lost himself there. He put on his mask. He couldn't be himself there; he couldn't be himself around any Hogwarts students.

Hell, he couldn't be himself around any magical person. At all.

Why? Because he was the golden boy. How could he show his true colors? No, he had to remain one color: Gold.

He had to be pure around them. But he wasn't pure. Not really. His body was covered with hidden scars, his face streaked with invisible tears.

The blood that ran through his body was black.

He would swear that he bled poison.

But they would never know, would they? They never could.

Could they?

He was the golden boy. And he would stay like that forever.

Wouldn't he?


A/N: okay, well, there you have it! This can actually be a one shot if you'd like it to be. What do u say? Continue? Don't continue? Tell me please!

If you DID NOT read the SLASH warnings above, DO NOT FLAME ME! I do NOT want to hear you winning about how Harry is NOT gay, b/c you didn't notice the warnings!

((sorry, but I got flamed for one of my story's b/c of that, and it really made me MAD-other slash authors know what I mean.))


One shot?