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"Ah!"

Harry shot up and hissed at the burning sensation in his scar.

What was that? Was that someone screaming? Why were they screaming? WHO was screaming in such a pained way?

Harry looked at the time. 3 am.
He sighed and wiped the cold sweat off of his forehead.

His body was drenched. He was sweating buckets and just from a nightmare.
Yet the same questions ran in Harry's head: who was that? Why were they screaming? Was it just a nightmare or did that actually happen to someone?

Harry sighed.
He wasn't going to get answers just by thinking. He needed to find a way to figure out why he had that nightmare and who was screaming...

But right now he needed to try and get more sleep.
Harry grabbed the hem of his golden red blanket he stole from Hogwarts and pulled it over his head.

Draco panted.
It's only 2 weeks into summer and Draco wanted to die. He wanted to go back to Hogwarts and away from his house. He wanted to pick on Potter and hear Charles useless complaining.

Narcissa ran over and helped her son up and onto his shaking legs.

A mark slithered on Dracos forearm bringing him more pain.
The mark was a large snake like Nagini slithering slowly through a worn down skull.

To Draco it felt as if snakes were running through his veins. His body was heated and his insides stung.
He regretted his decision. This mark was a curse, one he'd never be able to get rid of and no one would want to be with a death eater... unless they were one themselves or just retarded.

Narcissa helped Draco to his room and healed his wounds but the pain still lingered, reminding Draco what path he had chosen.
Instead of being with Potter, the weasel, granger, Charles.. Draco chose his family and Blaise.

Draco didn't necessarily hate his decision... but he didn't like it either.
Just over this year, the last 6 months he had started to grow feelings for someone he once hated. They were a beta but Draco didn't really care, he wasn't as heartless as everyone thought but he was still picky.

With much struggle Dracos heavy eyelids shut, not even giving him enough time to look at the clock.

Charles Potters Younger BrotherWhere stories live. Discover now