(AN: For anyone who has read this before. I BEG you to read it again.
At least the first two chapters. They have been heavily edited (as the
remaining chapters will be within the next two weeks) and later chapters
won't make much sense if you don't read them. Also I really need feedback.
Is my editing for nothing?? begs for help)
Draco Malfoy was bored. Really bored. Really really bored. Really really reall... okay enough of that. Suffice to say, the oh so sexy blonde Slytherin was bored out of his pretty little mind. That was nothing new considering he had been locked in the same room for almost a week, without his wand. He'd spent five whole fricken days with barely anything to eat, and absolutely nothing to do. All because he refused to take the Dark Mark.
At first he had stormed around the room throwing things and breaking them, and then he had yelled for a bit, but then he cooled off (as he cleaned up his mess. No matter why the mess had happened, he could not tolerate a messy room), and decided that this was much better than the alternative. In fact, he figured he had gotten off far too easy. They could have just killed him after all. Or they could have tortured and killed him. He shuddered at the thought. The Death Eaters could drag these things out for month.
The blonde Slytherin hated going home for breaks. Every time was the same thing. "You're going to take the Dark Mark and serve our Lord boy," and every time Draco had come up with a good excuse not to take the mark just yet. Well, it seemed his father had tired of his excuses. Even under normal circumstances, being at home was mentally taxing. It was like being in the public eye 24/7. The cool indifference and arrogant air had to be about him at all times, or his father would know something was up. Draco couldn't remember one time that he was allowed just to be himself outside... Scratch that. Â He couldn't remember a time at all where he was just allowed to be the person he wanted to be.
The truth of the matter was that Draco wasn't entirely sure about 'who' he wanted to be, but he did know that he wanted to be nothing like his father. The man was a murdering bastard. He just wanted a chance to do what his instincts told him, instead of having to question if his decisions followed the form that had been beat into him.
He had been mulling over this for a while. Five days in solitude gave you quite a bit of time to think. On his second day he had begun planning his escape. He knew that eventually his father would come in to see if his son had relented yet. That was how things went around there. He also knew that there was a roaring fire was kept in the sitting room fireplace almost all day and night for his father's dearest master. The last thing he knew, and the one thing that his father didn't, was that he had a bit of floo powder. If he did everything exactly right, he might just be able to make it to Hogwarts. It was chancy of course. There were billions of things that could go wrong. But what other choice did he have. Stay and die? Hardly an option.
He had been sitting ready since he made that plan, his trained on the door for the slightest turn of the knob. For three days he had been poised and ready, and for three days he just sat there. He hardly even slept at night, in case his father came in then.
Finally on his sixth day, his chance came. The door slammed open, and before Draco could even jump he was down on the floor writhing in pain. Okay, so he hadn't planned for being hexed into his plan, but Draco figured he might as well try and work this to his advantage. Besides, it wasn't really all that bad. He had been his with this particular hex enough before that he was beginning to build up a bit of resistance. No need for his father to know that little fact, however.
"Boy. Tonight you join the service of the Dark Lord, he will not accept anymore excuses. Finite Incartium," Lucius drawled.
Draco remained limp on the ground, twitching every few moments for show. Lucius scoffed and with a flick of his wand had Draco dragging behind him as he went to the sitting room. "I'm disappointed in you. Really, collapsing after that. I feel I have failed as a father."
Draco bit his tongue to keep from sending a retort. He let himself be dragged into the plush room. He snaked his hand into his pocket and grabbed a handful of floo powder. He went ahead and sat up when they stopped. The room was full of people. Including Voldemort. Well, wasn't that just special. Did he miss the notice that tonight was going to be a family dinner? Really, the Dark Lord normally only showed up for holidays, and never bearing gifts either, how rude of him.
"Step forward my dragon so that you may take my mark," the oversized snake hissed at him.
Draco laughed dryly as he stood up. "You know, it's really funny that you should say that. After all, I just spent five days locked up because I said no. What really makes you think that I will bow to you now, Your Ugliness? I would rather die than bow to you, and it will be a cold day in hell before I lick your boots," he said as he walked over to the fireplace and leaned against it. His lips quirked up in a smirk as he found the perfect ending to his sentence, "Mudblood."
"So be it then boy. If you do not join me you will die. Lucius!"
Draco hesitated a moment as his father stepped forward. His father wouldn't really go so far as to kill him. Would he? Oh, what the hell of course Lucius would off him for his precious Voldemort. What was he thinking? The man was always Voldie this and Voldie that. Really. You'd almost thing Voldemort had birthed Lucius himself or something.
"Avada Ked-"
Draco threw his powder into the fireplace. "HOGWARTS!!!"
Just as he jumped in and felt the spell begin to work, something hit him in the back. The sudden pain made him gasp, and a green glow surrounded him as the world fell into darkness.
Draco Malfoy was bored. Really bored. Really really bored. Really really reall... okay enough of that. Suffice to say, the oh so sexy blonde Slytherin was bored out of his pretty little mind. That was nothing new considering he had been locked in the same room for almost a week, without his wand. He'd spent five whole fricken days with barely anything to eat, and absolutely nothing to do. All because he refused to take the Dark Mark.
At first he had stormed around the room throwing things and breaking them, and then he had yelled for a bit, but then he cooled off (as he cleaned up his mess. No matter why the mess had happened, he could not tolerate a messy room), and decided that this was much better than the alternative. In fact, he figured he had gotten off far too easy. They could have just killed him after all. Or they could have tortured and killed him. He shuddered at the thought. The Death Eaters could drag these things out for month.
The blonde Slytherin hated going home for breaks. Every time was the same thing. "You're going to take the Dark Mark and serve our Lord boy," and every time Draco had come up with a good excuse not to take the mark just yet. Well, it seemed his father had tired of his excuses. Even under normal circumstances, being at home was mentally taxing. It was like being in the public eye 24/7. The cool indifference and arrogant air had to be about him at all times, or his father would know something was up. Draco couldn't remember one time that he was allowed just to be himself outside... Scratch that. Â He couldn't remember a time at all where he was just allowed to be the person he wanted to be.
The truth of the matter was that Draco wasn't entirely sure about 'who' he wanted to be, but he did know that he wanted to be nothing like his father. The man was a murdering bastard. He just wanted a chance to do what his instincts told him, instead of having to question if his decisions followed the form that had been beat into him.
He had been mulling over this for a while. Five days in solitude gave you quite a bit of time to think. On his second day he had begun planning his escape. He knew that eventually his father would come in to see if his son had relented yet. That was how things went around there. He also knew that there was a roaring fire was kept in the sitting room fireplace almost all day and night for his father's dearest master. The last thing he knew, and the one thing that his father didn't, was that he had a bit of floo powder. If he did everything exactly right, he might just be able to make it to Hogwarts. It was chancy of course. There were billions of things that could go wrong. But what other choice did he have. Stay and die? Hardly an option.
He had been sitting ready since he made that plan, his trained on the door for the slightest turn of the knob. For three days he had been poised and ready, and for three days he just sat there. He hardly even slept at night, in case his father came in then.
Finally on his sixth day, his chance came. The door slammed open, and before Draco could even jump he was down on the floor writhing in pain. Okay, so he hadn't planned for being hexed into his plan, but Draco figured he might as well try and work this to his advantage. Besides, it wasn't really all that bad. He had been his with this particular hex enough before that he was beginning to build up a bit of resistance. No need for his father to know that little fact, however.
"Boy. Tonight you join the service of the Dark Lord, he will not accept anymore excuses. Finite Incartium," Lucius drawled.
Draco remained limp on the ground, twitching every few moments for show. Lucius scoffed and with a flick of his wand had Draco dragging behind him as he went to the sitting room. "I'm disappointed in you. Really, collapsing after that. I feel I have failed as a father."
Draco bit his tongue to keep from sending a retort. He let himself be dragged into the plush room. He snaked his hand into his pocket and grabbed a handful of floo powder. He went ahead and sat up when they stopped. The room was full of people. Including Voldemort. Well, wasn't that just special. Did he miss the notice that tonight was going to be a family dinner? Really, the Dark Lord normally only showed up for holidays, and never bearing gifts either, how rude of him.
"Step forward my dragon so that you may take my mark," the oversized snake hissed at him.
Draco laughed dryly as he stood up. "You know, it's really funny that you should say that. After all, I just spent five days locked up because I said no. What really makes you think that I will bow to you now, Your Ugliness? I would rather die than bow to you, and it will be a cold day in hell before I lick your boots," he said as he walked over to the fireplace and leaned against it. His lips quirked up in a smirk as he found the perfect ending to his sentence, "Mudblood."
"So be it then boy. If you do not join me you will die. Lucius!"
Draco hesitated a moment as his father stepped forward. His father wouldn't really go so far as to kill him. Would he? Oh, what the hell of course Lucius would off him for his precious Voldemort. What was he thinking? The man was always Voldie this and Voldie that. Really. You'd almost thing Voldemort had birthed Lucius himself or something.
"Avada Ked-"
Draco threw his powder into the fireplace. "HOGWARTS!!!"
Just as he jumped in and felt the spell begin to work, something hit him in the back. The sudden pain made him gasp, and a green glow surrounded him as the world fell into darkness.