Hiya folks, Ebony here.
As you might or might not know it's been a while since I last updated anything on FF and I'm sure some of you are pissed that this isn't the long awaited update ( sorry about that) but y'all just gonna have to deal hmmkay? On the upside, this story is mostly finished so I'll probably be updating every other day.
Anyway, the pairing on this is Severus/Draco with a build-up to Severus/Draco/Harry *squeal*
Disclaimer: I don't own nothing, no really I don't own anything.
Sweet torture
Chapter 1
Silent feet roamed aimlessly through the castle's halls. All the other inhabitants of the castle had long since fallen into morpheus' warm embrace, but not him, he did not dare tread there.
The pale, ghostly figure aimlessly wandered anywhere and everywhere his feet guided him, unhindered by the cold draft that seeped the castle's barren walls. Even the Hogwarts ghosts themselves move out of his way when he approaches, their pale eyes watching him from a distance but he doesn't even notice them anymore. Lost in his own morose thoughts, trapped within the darkness and anguish of his morbid memories, unable to break free until the light of morning comes to rouse him from his waking slumber. Then he would once more have to go back to pretending- pretending to everyone around him that he was as all right, that nothing was wrong in their happy little world. The mask would return and remain firmly in its place until nightfall when he would again return to this world of torture.
What reason did he have for this?
He was certain that no one would understand. Why would they? Everything was great right?
Voldemort was dead, the war was over and things were finally falling back in place. And him? He was their saviour, the one who made it all possible. As the Boy-Who-Killed-You-Know-Who, once again adored by the masses and hailed by all, he should have been happy. Hell! He should have been ecstatic, over the moon even.
Instead he was stuck in the past as he kept reliving everything from the moment the war truly started all the way up to the moment of his final battle with Voldemort. The cold lifeless corpses, the screams of the tortured souls coming from various locations on the battlefield, the cruel laughter bubbling from those heartless beasts' lips at the sight of others' agony, the foul, suffocating smell of fear and decay that never seemed to dissipate. Even now he could still smell it, could still feel the blood sticking to every part of him. He would never be clean again, no matter how much he scrubbed, that blood would never come off.
Relentlessly, his mind kept going over the list of names of allies that had died during the war and even before. His parents, Sirius, Dumbledore, Moody, Fred, Percy, Remus, Tonks, Collin and Dennis Creevy and many more. Aurors, order members, students teachers and civilians alike, dead. It wasn't even hard to believe that he had somehow ended up saving two death eaters that night, two Slytherins that he had always professed to hate, one of whom had not long before killed his mentor while the other one stood by and watched. To him every life had been precious no matter which side the person was on he had refused to be responsible for any more deaths than he had to. For him there had been only one who deserved to die, Voldemort that man, no monster had deserved to die the fact that he lived had been unnatural and even then in a way Harry had saved the dark lord, from himself and the soulless creature he'd let himself become.
Yes, Harry had saved many lives that day be it directly or in a roundabout way.
Those two though had been different in a way, so different even that he now found himself avoiding them at all cost.
Being near them was a torture all on its own but then, being away from them seemed practically unbearable. He had to though, there was no other way.
School had been in session for three months now and due to him using his studies as a means of distraction his grades had improved drastically as they now rivalled Hermione's for first place, much to the girl's not so well hidden aggravation it seemed.
His friends were another story. They had noticed him pulling away from them and just couldn't understand why. Honestly though, he didn't really care. He didn't want them to understand and the more they pressured him to open up to them, the more he closed himself off. That was the only way for him to stay sane, for him keep hold of that last vestige of fragile calm that seemed to be slipping away more and more by the day.
A/N: Well there you have it, short but sweet like most of the chapters will be. Please leave me a review telling me what you think, constructive criticism is appreciated and taken into consideration, BS is used to fertilize my garden. See y'all next chapter.
Ciao,
Ebony
