Summary: Draco must find a mudblood to kill for his initiation as a death eater... What happens when he falls in love with her? Will he decide to kill her afterall? HG/DM. Twisted plot.... Original, knowing me....
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to the genius J.K. *turns green with envy.* Don't sue me or else you will see me turn into a Frankinstein flashback from the 70's. Not that I was alive then.
A/N: Another story from yours truly! *bows deeply* This story mentions deppression and thoughts of suicide. But don't worry, it really IS a romance! And it's not hazardous to your health. (at least I don't think.) This story also contains spelling mistakes such as: Drapo, Drago, Drazo, Drabo, and Dravo. Bleh. Don't ask. Also, my friend told me Fatal Attractions' was a movie. Never seen it. I didn't copy off the title. So ha! Well then... on with the story! And PLEASE tell me what you think!!!
Fatal Attractions
Chapter One
Blood Illuision
Hermione Granger awoke with a start and shot up in the cold water. Freezing droplets ran down her arms and legs, raising gooseflesh as they plowed their way down her skin.
Her hand flew to her chest in shock and she felt the reassuring thrumming of her heart. She was alive. Trembling, she pulled the plug on the drain and watched vacantly as the bath water swirled away.
Climbing from the tub and patting herself dry, Hermione shivered and slipped on her Hogwart's robes. Deftly pulling her thick curls into a messy bun and cramming her text books into her pack, Hermione darted off to the library.
* * *
In a dark room,on the center of the floor, a single candle burned. A silver haired boy sat beside the candle, head bowed, clutching a crystal orb.
Time is growing short, Malfoy. You must find a victim for the ceremony. Hissed a snakelike voice.
*Yes, Master.*
The ritual must be completed within a matter of days. I hope you find a mudblood... for your sake.
*As you wish it, Master.*
Do not fail me...
*I will not, Milord.*
Good....
With a snap, the connection was broken, causing a wave of pain to rip through Draco's head. Gripping his hair with his hands the young man stumbled blindly for a moment. Darts of poisoned ice blasted their way into every corner of his mind, burning into his thoughts like cold fire.
When he pulled his hands from his shaking hand, Draco cried out in terror. He saw nothing but blood. Blood running in thick, red rivers down his cheeks, his hands, his arms. Blood seeping into his eyes, matting his eyelashes. Blood everywhere; on everything.
Fading. Draco felt reality grown hazy. He reached his hands out and grasped at the cold air. Blood dribbled from his fingertips onto the floor. In a daze, the silver haired boy collapsed with a dull thud, the candle blowing itself out. Black crept across Draco's vision.
He collided with darkness.
***
Buried under a pile of haphazardly stacked spell books, Hermione sat flipping through a heavy, leather-bound book.
Dragons blood.... Peacock silver.... Raven claw. She muttered to herself, small finger skimming page 2051. Closing the book, Hermione sat up and stretched her limbs. After yawning and flinging her pack onto her back, Hermione wandered off in search of Harry and Ron. Only she didn't know the deadly consequences of the potion she had just found.
***
Draco dropped sharply from his state of unconsciousness, traces of a nightmare lingering on. His hands flew before his eyes, panic sharply creasing the corners of his mind. No blood. Clean. It had only been an illusion. Or had it?
Rubbing his temples wearily, Draco stumbled to the cabinet. Grasping a glass bottle, he took a swig and felt the dulling affect of the alcohol blot out the burning of his nerves. Draco held the bottle with both hands, almost desperately, as if the alcohol was a lifeline.
Reluctantly, he sat up, fumbling for the door. Draco deserted the unused classroom and swung into the empty corridor. Passing portraits of grim witches and wizards, he contemplated the upcoming ritual. Who would he use? It was required for a death eater to sacrifice a mudblood during the dark moon to be initiated into Voldemort's circle. Raking his hands through his hair, Draco thought of the long line of Malfoy's who had gone before him, pledging their eternal service to the Dark Lord. Only Draco wasn't so sure he wanted to.
Growling in frustration, he kicked the wall, feeling like an innocent bystander watching the world being torn apart.
He wasn't the only one.
A/N: Sooo.... what do you think? Does it sound blah'? Did all the characters seem to do was wake up and fall asleep? *bites nails nervously*