Disclaimer: These characters were created by the genius of J.K.Rowling and in no way are my own. However, the plot of this story is completely my own and in no way another author's. Thank you for reading.

Author's Note: This story came to me one day, out of the blue, in my Psych. 12 class. The basis for the story is complete, however the story itself is still in the works. Forgive me in advance for any delays that may upset my readers. Through a series of journals written by Draco Malfoy, this story tells the tale of his love for a woman who needed nothing more than love and hate to conquer the world.

Paradise Lost by Callista

Prologue- The Ascension of My Lover

The world stared at her in silence as she ascended the glorious throne, set there, towering over the crowd, for her, and only her.

Tick. Tap Tap. Tick. Somewhere water was dripping silently, like a clock and its persistent rhythm. Tick Tap. Tap Tick.

Upon the platform, she turned, searching the crowd for approving faces, screaming inside her head for help. Blank dullness stared back. What had she done to these people? Had she known it was going to be this difficult... but she couldn't turn back now. She could feel the power pumping, beating, surging through her veins... like music.

She remembered piano lessons... "Now, honey, if you don't practice, you will never get better..." her mother's image loomed in her mind. Damn the woman, she had always been in her way, always pushed at her, always tried to make her perfect. She'd taken care of that problem...the bitch was gone now, gone forever.

As she looked at the crowd, she spotted her friends, and their families; her enemies, and their families. She shook her head, and broke the silence with her laugh, a dark laugh. A new shadow had taken over... she would rule, and no one would stop her, not mudbloods or purebloods, no one.

No. She was beyond that now. She was more than anything anyone could imagine. Her lineage had change, become far greater than any on this planet. But there was one, one who came very close to being perfect for her. His family did not know, did not understand and never would, the genetic flaw that made him perfect for her. She was far more powerful than any had ever heard of, for she was beyond any history ever written. She had no part in legend.

But they still knew nothing of it.

She glanced at her perfect companion. Damn him – if she could have chosen anyone else... but she had no choice.

She concluded the ritual that made her ascension complete.

She became the magic.

How many times had he looked at her; and seen nothing but a flawed bookworm? How had they not seen her beauty? He looked at her now, so perfect...no blemish...no flaw. The power, the magic glowed through her skin, showing the unbelievable truth that they had all been to blind to see. She was a goddess.

He glanced at the frozen stance of her beloved friends. So pitiful they seemed, to know that she cared nothing for them. They stared in horror at the beauty that was once their friend.

She looked at him – why did he feel like he was on fire? – What the fuck was happening to him? His hands were beginning to glow.

'Come to me.'

Where did that come from? No one reacted, the crowd simply staring ahead, focused on her. There was no sound, no noise.

'Come to me.' The voice – thought? – was more persistent now. He gazed in her direction – she stood, hair fluttering – chocolate brown; honey brown; black; brown; light gold; chocolate brown – tall and empowering.

'Damn it. Where are you? Who are you? What do you want?' he thought frantically.

'Shut up. Come to me. Who do you think this is? Do not make me mad, love, you will not like it. Come to me.'

'Her...?'

'Shut up. Come to me!'

He slowly made his way through the unmovable crowd. Confused, as if afraid of trespassing on her ground, he climbed the platform steps, until he was to steps below her.

'Am I dreaming?' The thoughts of a small boy, wanting the comfort of a mother. 'Her...?'

'Shut up, you fool, I told you to stop. Do not speak until spoken to! And do not call me by that...NAME.' The thought she sent he was full of disgust.

'Her...I mean, are you alright?'

'Shut up.' The screaming thought deafened his mind to the fixated point of stillness.

She glanced at his face. 'Turn and look at them, my sweet. See how they tremble?' She spoke, and the words sounded like the most beautiful music...although he knew that they were poison. "My worms, welcome to a new life. Bow before me...I control you now!"

Forgive me.

To begin a tale of darkness, one must have lived in darkness, felt it bleed into the skin, like a drop of ink dispersing in water.

But every tale of darkness I have begun has ended in the blackness of my soul. I want more. I want to feel again...to love...that is part of the fantasy of every happy ending tale, is it not?

As I have said, forgive me. I have started with the beginning of the end of my tale. It speaks of how she conquered the world within the blink of an eye, and did it by simply crushing our thoughts.

The beginning is difficult to tell. I loved her from the moment she fell, and lost her that very, same moment. She cared nothing for my love for her. I knew that, I have known that for many years. She felt an emptiness inside – I tried to fill that emptiness with love...I failed, as I have failed for many years.

Our love... if we had any...lasted for centuries, although those centuries have yet to come.

She was obsessed...drowning in her own self-loathing, her own hunger for power. She chose me... out of millions, to rule at her side. She hated me...I knew it, she knew it...but my genetic 'make up' as you would call it almost perfectly matched the hideous flaw she possessed. I simply could not grasp the depth of her power.

She was the stuff that carved dreams. A legend beyond legends, tales, folklore, and haunting stories.

My love was a Goddess...not in the literal sense...but a perfect being, as if descended from heaven, to rule in agony – a cause and effect from hell, looking and sounding like heaven.

My tale is of death, destruction and mayhem. But it is also of love, trust and true heart. I know that you do not understand...you will.

My tale is of Hermione Granger Malfoy. My love, my heart, my failure.

And so, the beginning will come.

Draco Malfoy

A/N: So, my prologue might make very little sense to some of you, but I promise that it will become clearer in time. For future reference, there will be swearing, smut, violence and rape. This story is rated R for a reason. For those of you who haven't read John Milton, you won't understand the reference in the title, but Paradise Lost was one of his greatest works. Any comments or questions please review. See you soon. Callista