Disclaimer: The characters in this story do not belong to me, but the storyline and plot do.
The grounds of Hogwarts were silent, the moonlight casting a bright glow on the ethereal looking forest. The trees were still - far too large to be moved by the breeze. The sounds of some small and not so small animals echoed slightly - something that would only unsettle the mind of the weakest first year.
The trimmed grass glowed emerald as the stars twinkled from the clear sky, the luminescent moon reflected in calm waters. The lake's waters were undisturbed except for the occasionally glimpse of a tentacle.
All things considered, it looked quite like a normal night at Hogwarts. No sinister red moon, no ominous dark clouds. Just the usual magic presence of a school made to teach youngsters. Unfortunately, something would shortly upset that tranquility.
A small pinprick appeared in the sky, gradually increasing in size. As it moved closer to the moon's light, the creature's form was revealed.
It was an owl, and quite a beautiful one. The stately eagle owl cut through the sky with a grace that was only known to its kind, the dark feather's of its wings gleaming. The owl seemed to possess an elegance most humans only dream of, one that spoke of intelligence and arcane knowledge. And in its dangerous looking talons was a letter.
A letter that would soon turn a familiar blonde Slytherin's life upside-down, inside-out, and - well you get the idea.
Draco Malfoy sat awake on the dark green coverlet that was spread on his bed. His hands were stained with ink and he chewed the end of his quill in a way that everyone but him thought was seductive. He was well known for being a bit of an insomniac and at the present moment he had nothing better to do then a Transfiguration essay.
It was sad, he knew.
Hopefully he would be able to go to sleep soon because he couldn't stand those dreadful bags under his eyes. They didn't go well with his delicate coloring, and he wouldn't walk around like those pitiful Gryffindors who looked as if they had never heard the word moisturizer.
Especially the Weasel… with all those freckles…
Draco shuddered and composed himself, promising to think of less terrifying things until daytime. Just as Draco was about to start writing exactly why Self-transfiguration never really worked out, he heard the tapping of an owl on his window.
Draco looked curiously at the gorgeous owl, wondering who on earth would be sending him something at such an hour. His first thought was the the not-so-original Gryffindorks were trying to play an over-used and idiotic prank on him - however, after performing many charms on the paper, Draco saw that there seemed to be no foul spells on it. It couldn't hurt to open.
If Draco had only known what chain of events this letter would bring, he would have torched half of the Slytherin living quarters to destroy the blasted thing.
This is probably some note from an admirer, Draco thought, as if i don't have enough of those.
My dearest Draconian Devil, So this is some type of secret admirer, Draco thought smugly. You have kept me astounding by your charismatic arrogance, suspended in heavenly hell by your splendor... I look at you and see the reason I was put on this Earth. I could stare into your eyes for eons on end...
But looking is not always enough, now is it, my love? Draco glared at the paper in mild aggravation. He was nobody's love. There is only so many times I can see your pale hair and not want to pull it, so many times have I wanted to break out of this shell I am held by and take you to be my own. He suddenly had the overwhelming desire to throw the letter out of the window.
I only have so much patience in a lifetime to see your lively, untouched spirit and not want soil it. Draco's eyes froze on the word "untouched". Yes, precious, I know you are pure... no matter how hard you desire it be hidden - I can see the virginal innocence in you condescending eyes.
I will have such fun educating you the carnal pleasures of man - I will be the teacher and you the student... You may resist at first, but that is what binding charms are for, my little snake. If you bleed, it is only to wash away your sins. If you are cut, it is only to show you pleasure from the agony. If you beg me to stop, your plea will not be heard.
I know you better than you know yourself... you want me, NEED me, it is time for you to realize it. O, you are the one I will enjoy listening to scream for all eternity. Soon, you will come to realize me for what I am.
Your savior.
Your God.
The note wasn't signed.
Blaise Zabini walked in to see a piece of parchment fall from the numb and shaking hands of his best friend.
"Draco?" Blaise spoke softly, not sure what was wrong with his now ashen faced friend.
Draco stared for a moment before realizing who it was, and let most of the tension drain out of his body. "Oh, it's just you."
"Not the most flattering greeting I've gotten out of you. What's up?"
Draco rolled his eyes and tried to act as if he hadn't just read a crazed stalker letter. "I should be asking you that. It's nearly two, where in the hell were you?" Draco asked accusingly, almost acting as if Blaise had been there he'd never gotten the letter.
"Well, mother, if you must know - I was in the Ravenclaw's girl dorms."
"Who was it this time, Zabini?"
"Who wasn't it?" Blaise said smugly. "And you know how much I love it when you call me by my surname, love. It's kinky." At this, Blaise winked and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Normally, Draco would have smacked Blaise 'round the head for a comment like that, but all he did was shudder in remembrance of how that stalker freak used the word "love".
Blaise Zabini might have been a humanizing (he was way past womanizing), perverted, crap at DADA Slytherin, but he was still quite perceptive. Therefore, he took a note of the shiver and filed it away for later use.
"Cold, Draco?" Blaise asked concerned, automatically unwrapping a green throw and putting it over the smaller Slytherin's shoulder. When Draco only glared half-heartedly at him for being a mother hen, he knew something was wrong.
Walking to the other side of the bed, his foot hit something - the same piece of paper he saw Draco drop. Subtly sliding the paper closer to himself, he promised he would only read it if Draco didn't tell him what was wrong.
"Is everything okay?"
Again all he got was one of those half-arsed glares that weren't up to par with the Malfoy twin beams of ultimate destruction.
"Nothing."
"So that's why when I walked in here you looked like you'd seen a troll - not to mention that you're pale as a ghost."
"I'm always this color, jackarse. My skin is rather pale - or haven't you noticed?" Draco asked acidly, not wanting to deal with Blaise's reaction if he knew about the letter he'd received. The last thing he needed was to have to deal with an over-protective freak for a friend who wouldn't even let you go to the bathroom alone.
Blaise was already quite protective of him when he found out how Lucius treated him earlier this year. Abuse didn't sit well with Blaise, and it took every bit of persuasive power he had to stop Blaise from "kicking that disgusting, murderous, abusive, Dark Lord following bastard's arse". In reality he knew whose arse would have gotten kicked if such an altercation had occured. And it wouldn't have been Lucius'.
Draco remembered that day clearly.