Gambling With the Dark Side
S.N. Blade and Doux Gamine
Chapter One

The Forbidden

The quiet of the manor was not unsettling; Draco was quite used to being left home for the summer holidays, pertaining to the fact that his father was most likely on Death Eater business. Although Draco aspired to be one in the ranks, he was often denied the privilege of attending such an event; soon enough, though, he would be one of them, and would accompany his father on said excursions. Until then, he was satisfied by the wealth of information contained in the Malfoy Manor Library that would allow him to be a step above the rest of the initiates, even including some of the already instated Death Eaters. The Library was renowned in the Dark community for its tomes and volumes of Dark Magic and the likes, even more reason for the Malfoy family to be held in honor. That was why Draco now sat in his favorite, black leather arm-chair, feet propped on the mahogany coffee table, a recent update of Poisoning Potions open on his lap. The thin book listed only the least lethal of poisons, but it was better to know them all rather than to know only a few. As it was, most of the potions Draco had already been taught to brew years before, leading to his immaculate brewing abilities and outstanding Potions marks. Getting slightly bored of the monotony in ingredients, each potion only being a slight variation of the previous, the young Malfoy flicked the book shut and tossed it on the table for the house-elves to return later. Needless to say, he was in the mood for something slightly more menacing.[snz]

Considering his current hunger for the proper distraction and aching distaste for the humdrum Dark Arts Books, Draco proceeded wearily to the darker corner of the monstrous library. He new this was where he would find something more tasteful and mischievous. He could feel his interest peaking as he neared the secret passageway to the more illegal books. Behind that deceiving bookcase lie steps that led down to those books he so desired. He took to the large shelves, old and dusty, full of sinful knowledge. In the midst of his shuffling and rummaging he found one very enticing book that he immediately wiped at with his ivory hand. The title was written in, it seemed, ancient, gold lettering. Draco could not make out the name for it was written in parseltongue. He inwardly hoped the rest of the book was not in the language personified by Voldemort himself. Indeed, to his displeasure, it was. The only parts he could partially understand where pictures. The graphics were chilling. The pictures of humans at dissecting views and hideous conditions were then and there imprinted in the back of his mind perpetually. The detail in the drawings (yes, hand-drawings) was meticulous. Squinting at the riveting drawings he saw theory and evil mixing ingeniously. Though he did not understand fully the extent of the book he could see the thought and passion for their work was deep as the darkest caverns of the ocean. Draco attempted to read out loud what he thought appeared to be a less dangerous passage in the book but he was horribly wrong in that conclusion and was about to find that out.[jdb]

As the foreign sounds spilt forth from his mouth, a chill corrupted the air and the raw stench of evil polluted his senses. Feeling that what he was doing was not only wrong considering he was forbidden of these shelves, but also because he was quickly losing control of his vocal cords. The thought of uncontrollable forces abducting his body was not one that Draco Malfoy favored. In fact, even under the Imperius Curse he felt highly annoyed that he did not dictate his own actions; but what could one do against his father? Suddenly, the strange, slippery words began flowing from is mouth fluently at an alarming rate. Before he knew what he was doing he'd begun sporadically directing his arms in seemingly well-practiced movements; the book rested on its shelf, his eyes no longer on it but shut in passion and powerful concentration. The words kept rolling off his tongue as if Draco had known them all his life. Taking note of the fact that what he'd previously seen written on the aging page was coming from his mouth he made an attempt to shut the book. The only outcome was for it to keep pressure against his hands, rendering them useless in both shutting the tome and releasing it. A final syllable was uttered as he noticed the exact meaning of the diagram meant for that page. He was unaware of the graceful tendrils of his hair blowing in the now somehow wistful winds he'd created about himself. All finesse was lost as the volume crashed shut, pulling his hands with it in a force enough to bruise his flawless palms. The once wistful air sizzled with a source-less heat and the tall blonde felt it itching in and under his skin. Painfully slow it crawled through his body but he was rendered motionless. This handicap was short lived as the crawling stopped and the stark realization hit that an unknown entity had just seeped into his body, searing his already blackened soul.[snz and jdb]

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Continue? You decide. Posted by both Doux Gamine and S.N. Blade in a joint effort to write a smashing fic! (Further Chapters will be significantly longer.) Hope you enjoy!

S.N. Blade: in my favorite authors

Disclaimer: Neither the characters or the situations are ours, although the plot is as well as the demon. Steal it, and we'll let him loose on you without remorse.