Persephone

Authors Note: AU! I've decided to start writing again, I know I haven't in quite some time, and I know I left two stories dwindling, but I have been working on both of them writing new chapters and such, but this story has been gathering in the secret dwellings of my mind for quite some time, and I felt as though it was now time to turn it from my notebook to something to share with you all. I am a huge Hermione/Draco fan and I felt this story to be something I could connect with on a personal level. I hope you enjoy it. The title will not yet be explained but for those of you that are pondering, it is pronounced like this, "Per-Sef-Oh!-Knee" not "per-sa-phone" like a telephone. Well, please read and review and I really hope you all enjoy this one. I know I will.

Disclaimer: While these characters and places are not mine, the emotions and events are, so enjoy them, but please do not claim them as your own. I crave individuality and creativity and I would be deeply saddened if someone tried to rob me of it.

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Draco Lucius Malfoy. A name meant to demand instant respect from all those touched by it. Every lip that uttered it, should quiver in fear of its Master. Every ear that heard its rhythmic pattern should automatically recognize the emotions meant to be affiliated with that name. Those emotions born for the sole purpose of benefiting the Master of the very name that caused them. After all, Master is what he was.

He was Master of many. At merely 17 years of age he had already acquired a respectable amount of loyal servants. Yes, servants, for that is what they were, never to be considered friends. A Master does not require friends, just loyal servants to rule over. In addition to these loyal followers, was a list of women, captivated by this Masters mere presence. All beautiful, or at least attractive, for a Malfoy deserved no less. All perfectly willing to quench his lust. All fell to his sickeningly sweet charm. He was a gentleman after all, a showman of sorts. He knew just the part to play to keep his hoard of devoted followers clinging to every honey drenched word to roll off his lips.

Why wouldn't they? They had every reason to love him the way that they did. His presence was never to go unnoticed. He was a remarkably attractive individual. Long and slender in every way. He was naturally muscular, of a strong build, but never husky. A pointed nose and slender mouth placed perfectly upon his pale face, so perfectly in fact that one would have thought he has sold his soul to Lucifer just to look the way that he did. Long, white-blonde hair swept to the side of his face as though it had finally given up an ever constant battle to obscure his vision and fallen victim to his will. His hands were soft, long delicate fingers, never calloused. A Malfoy never had calluses. A Malfoy never struggled through hard labor.

He was gorgeous in every way, but the most breathtaking element of his appearance was his eyes. His gorgeous, piercing eyes. They were of a striking blue-grey color, almost transparent as though made of glass. They were not ordinary, they were the kind you simply cannot find. Rarely do you meet a person with the kind of eyes that Draco Malfoy possessed. They had the power to change worlds, to turn oceans. They could be menacing or they could be soft. They showed both weakness and strength at the same time, for he was a man that possessed both.

Strength, oh yes he was a strong man. He walked into a room and all heads turned. He was powerful, Malfoy magic was known to be great, and his wealth only added to his influence. But he was also weak. It is an ironic sort of thing how two traits so different can be so easily intertwined, how they can feed off each other and thrive in the presence of one another, but it was his weaknesses that made him strong. Though before any individual can acquire full strength, they must first recognize and fall victim to their weaknesses, for that is the only way to overcome them.

He knew this, and he searched the depths of his mind for these weaknesses, and though some were easily found, dealt with and discarded, something remained, preventing him from climbing to the top and becoming the horrendously powerful, content individual that he longed to become. He was determined to find this weakness and fill the void that grew in his soul, and as with any great romance, his search began unexpectantly, with a girl...

"Master Draco, Missus sends Morrie to fetch you! It is time for Hogwarts Master Draco! Missus shall punish Morrie if Master Draco is late!" The house-elf Morrie scampered around the foot of the grand oak bed in the center of Draco's bedroom. The thick silver comforter matched the drapes hanging over the windows, looking out to the great Malfoy estate. Emerald green walls were lined with shelves upon shelves of books. More books were piled upon a desk in the corner and even more books adorned the mantle over the fireplace.

He raised himself from the warmth of his bed and shook silvery-blonde locks of hair out of his grey-blue eyes. He staggered into his own personal bathroom and removing his night clothes stepped into the magnificent shower. As he felt the scalding hot water run from the white gold shower head onto his own, and wash away his sleep, he slowly entered into reality.

September the First.

Hogwarts.

A sinking feeling set into the very pit of his stomach as he stepped out of the shower, not bothering to cover himself or take care not to splash tidal waves of soapy water onto the solid marble floors. He did not bother with petty tribulations such as that. That is what house-elves were for. Water drizzled down his cheekbones, trickled from his jaw, dripped from his eyelashes, but he did not care to notice. He peered at his own reflection in the mirror, looking himself up and down, as though inspecting, looking for impurities or flaws. Looking for weakness.

When he found nothing he sighed and walked into his closet. He dried himself with a soft, emerald green towel that seemed to have appeared just as he needed it, and he then selected an outfit worthy of this memorious occasion. Today marked the end. The seventh and final year, that he would wake up on September the First, and trade one Hell for another.

He pulled simple black slacks up around his waist and a grey sweater over his sturdy shoulders before bending to tie a pair of sleek black dress shoes. He never wore sneakers. He was a man of business and he was expected to keep his appearance, suave and devonaire. He exited his closet and called for his elf.

"Morrie!" A crack like a whip sounded and the elf appeared at his side. "Pack my closet into my trunk, all of it will do with going, I don't think I will be returning after I leave today."

The elf bowed low to him and set out to complete his task as Draco glidded back into his bedroom. He became to comb his bookshelves and mantle, taking time to select only those books that remained the most precious or useful to him, and when he had his collection, he set them in his trunk alongside his still unopened textbooks.

By this point in time Draco decided it was time to trod down the spiral staircase and bid adeu to his father and mother before setting out for Kings Cross Station. They of course would not accompany him. He was 17 years old and perfectly capable of walking through a silly brick wall on his own. He pinned the recently polished Head Boy badge to his sweater and walked downstairs to face his parents.

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Authors Note: Yay for character building chapters! Don't you just LOVE them. This one was slightly short I must say, but it's just a taste. Oh, tad bit of amusing information for you here. The muse for the house-elfs name, Morrie, came when I was laying in bed and looked up at my Jim Morrison poster. Thought some of you Doors fans might appreciate that! Well, read and review and hopefully I'll have an update for you sooner than you think :)