Blissfull Reawakening
warning-slash..thats all you should need to know...so go forth if you dare, turn back if you dont xD
disclaimer:
J.K: MINE MINE MINEEE!!
Sara: Ugh...fine... .
read ON!
Introduction
He slumped lethargically against the wall of his prison, breathless and tired. He winced at the pain that shot up his left arm; it was like nothing he had ever felt. He breathed a shaky breath, but stopped halfway when he heard it shaking. A Malfoy never expressed pain. He then re-capped, he was hardly a Malfoy, not anymore. It was a year ago that his name began to mean less, and his heart began to rule him, recklessly.
Perfection was, embodied in Mr. Draco Malfoy, from the silkiest white blond hair at the tip-top of his perfectly shaped head, to the pristine point of his just-buffed dragon hide boots. Even his adolescent skin had never been marred by a single blemish, his cream coloured, soft as his cashmere sweater, gossamer skin was always as supreme and sublime as his mother's-which was quite esteemed among the witches. His appearance was presumably the only thing perfect in Draco, apart from his hygiene, study habits and cunning ability to have a clever remark in store at the right moment. His problems lay in the more important things like morals, emotions and social issues; he was quite solitary even though he was often flocked with admirers and users. He did not care for humans that much, his solitude was his escape from his truth and it became a tight-nit mask of pretence and inner corruption, but he would never admit it.
Although he had thought about it once or twice, he never met anyone he would want to open up too; he felt it best not to become attached with his situation. He was widely known as a quite infamous Death Eater's son, and that title came with a twisted responsibility to adhere to his father's demands. These demands are what would unfortunately be the end of Draco, as they would require him to risk everything. Therefore, making a friend or lover would make him have to spill his heart and soul out. He knew, even as he had perfected his little mask, he was susceptible to weakness and that was not an option.
He could live without the comforts of love, he had done it for sixteen years, and nothing had changed. Until one night, he had passed over the delicate line that divided hate and love. Harry Potter stood, dishevelled and distressed under a moonlit arch in the middle of the castle garden. The arch was covered in red roses, climbing up and around every crevice of it, flooding and making love to it. Harry stood looking like a sculpture, perfect in his imperfections, staring into nothing, or into the forest. Wherever he was looking, he was looking at it worriedly and almost scared. Draco decided he would ask him what had happened, securing his mask, he stepped up to the bewildered boy.
"What's wrong Scar head? Seen a dementor?" Draco drawled, his pure wonder hidden well.
Harry seemed to have snapped out of a trance, "No. What are you doing here Malfoy? Are you looking for something?" He sounded defeated.
"Hmm...No, just thinking..." Malfoy recoiled at his honesty, what was that?
"That's nice..." He stared off into space again.
Draco raised an eyebrow at his airy voice, "Why aren't you being an arse?"
Harry blinked, "Because I'm not an arse."
Draco was dumbfounded at Harry's behaviour, "Potter...Are you alright?" He sounded concerned, maybe he should have been.
"N-No, I'm-" Harry fell to the floor, a pool of crimson blood covered his feet and when Draco looked at his chest, he saw that there was a gash, as large as his wand, from his collarbone to his midsection.
"Crap."
blah? tell me what you think!! i have plans for this one so it won't be a one-shot!! YAY!
R&R good buddies!!