Title: Silver Light
Category: Romance
Rating: M (language and explicit scenes)
Summary: Draco Malfoy simply cannot fathom the reason for sudden, unexplained moodswings, crowds of senselessly babbling peers, and an alarming, confusing infatuation with Harry Potter. Whatever will poor Draco do? veela!Draco, HP/DM slash.
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling and her publishers own Harry Potter and its characters. I don't mean to infringe their copyrights. :o
Warnings: This fanfiction includes mature boyxboy slash. Don't read it if that sort of thing offends you.
That day, Draco didn't feel very well.
The blonde lay pathetically on his four-poster bed, draped with rich, deep emerald silk that flowed down the sides of his bed like a waterfall. It was quite sad, really, considering that this was his last day at Malfoy Manor before he had to go back to that godforsaken cesspit that was called Hogwarts.
Was it really necessary for all students to repeat last year? Not that they'd really learned much, academically, but honestly...what a drag.
And he had to go face stupid, generous Harry Potter. Ugh. His stupid fans would be all over him, the prat.
The thought bothered him more than it should have, and he dismissed the feeling with an uncomfortable clenching in his gut. He'd been thinking far too much about Harry Potter this year, and Potter's unwelcome presence in his mind was becoming increasingly irritating.
Deliciously irritating, but irritating all the same.
A sharp crack at the side of Draco's bed pulled him out of his Potter-induced reverie. He yanked his green drapes aside and raised a lofty, pale eyebrow at the house elf that was revealed.
"What is it, Dilly?" Draco asked the short elf with enormous, pink ears and luminescent orbs for eyes, impatient and all too aware how ridiculous he sounded even letting the house elf's silly name fall from his lips.
"Master Draco's things are packed, sir," Dilly squeaked.
"Very well, Dilly. You may go," Draco intoned. The house elf disapparated with a sharp crack, and Draco was left in his room, sitting somewhat awkwardly on his bed. He got up, feeling slightly nauseous, and paced around his spacious room, but soon Draco felt quite dizzy.
He stumbled unsteadily into the tastefully decorated bathroom, locked the door behind him with a few choice spells, and looked carefully into the mirror. His looks had improved by an alarming margin this summer, and although the change had been quite apparent, at the moment he looked like shit. His eyes had obvious, dark circles under them, his usually soft, silvery blonde hair was limp, and his wide, silver eyes were dull and slightly bloodshot.
Another wave of nausea.
He ran to the toilet and was violently, repeatedly sick. When the disgusting bout of vomiting was over, Draco rested his feverish head on the cool, black marble floor, too weak to even wipe the excess vomit off of his mouth. Too weak to even attempt to stop thinking about Harry Potter. The boy's face filled his mind and he shut his eyes, wincing at the horrible, pained pang in his chest. He couldn't breathe. His breath came in short pants, gasps that barely gave him any oxygen at all.
His pale hands scrabbled against his chest, trying to get rid of the pain there.
"Oh, god," he mumbled, and then, fighting the pain, got unsteadily to his feet, turned the shower on with a flick of his wand, and stood under the cold spray in all his clothes. The fine fabric clung to his skin, and he sank into a huddled sitting position on the cool tile. His skin crawled, and it wasn't from the water.
He wondered if he'd be able to hold up alright tomorrow at Hogwarts.
After all the shivering and pain and nausea was gone, Draco got up, silently turned the shower off, and dried himself.
He felt oddly empty as he walked to his bed and lay down, falling into a restless slumber.
hdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhd
The next day, breakfast was almost unbearable.
Draco's mother babbled on about how wonderful it would be back at Hogwarts and he would have so much fun and the girls would be all over him this year because of how handsome he'd become this summer.
Draco didn't find this very likely, as most people in his year knew that he was quite gay. He absentmindedly took another biscuit from a plate on the enormous dining table, thinking that he really didn't feel that ill this morning. Perhaps he wouldn't make a fool of himself on the train.
And then, a sudden, unbidden spike of pain ran through his chest. He grimaced slightly and tried to focus a little more on his mother's inane chatter.
"Draco? Draco, are you listening to me?" Narcissa Malfoy asked, concerned. Draco looked up at her with tired eyes. "Of course I am, Harry."
The blonde woman raised an eyebrow. "What?" She glanced, a tad confusedly at Lucius, who looked equally alarmed but said nothing. Her boys weren't being very talkative today.
"I am listening to you, mother, and rather astutely," Draco snapped, unaware of his transgression. "But if you'll excuse me, I really must be off to Hogwarts." His chair slid back soundlessly as he got up from the table, and a house elf scurried to his side as he left, bags levitated in the air behind him.
A/N: Hm. So there's the first chapter- I hope you liked it. A few words of review would make me exceedingly pleased. (winknudge)
Preview of next chapter: He slowly turned, and, without thinking, yanked open the compartment door. "Harry," he breathed upon seeing aforementioned savior of the wizarding world.