Here ya go. My first HP fanfic, and my first SLASH!!! I love theses things.
Don't sue me okay!?! None of these characters are mine because the great JK Rowling created and gave these characters life!! They are hers and no one elses!! Besides, I have nothing…only some action figures and a fuzzy dragon poster.
Read and Review!! I need all the support I can get.
Hidden Feelings~chapter 1~Midnight Musings
He had no idea what made him come out here. He had expected his feet to carry him to one of the many hidden rooms in the castle, or perhaps the astronomy tower, but no; his feet carried him out onto the cold grounds.
Ron pulled his robe tighter and pressed on nearer and nearer to the great lake.
How could that have happened? Ron's mind poured over the scene in his mind. Over and over he saw them. Saw him. The wind picked up, turning colder as he trudged through the inch deep snow that covered the once verdant grass of Hogwarts. He bit his lip against the cold and pushed on, trying to get as far away from the castle as possible.
His heart felt completely shattered. His body felt weak and stiff. But he, he, felt betrayed and lied to. How could they have done this to me!? My own friends!! He had made his way to the lake and proceeded to follow it's edge to the border of The Forbidden Forest. He stumbled a bit as he crunched through the icing snow. The thought of Hermione with his lover was making his stomach turn. It was sickening. He did truly care for Harry. As a friend and as something more, but not now. Not after tonight.
Harry was now Headboy and therefore had a room to himself. Ron had thought that this privacy was a blessing, and hadn't even considered the thought that there might have been someone else sharing Harry's bed when he wasn't there. Hermione had been named Headgirl and also had a room to herself, not 3 feet away across the hall. But they were all friends. He knew Harry and Hermione were once an item and he now knew that Harry was bi, but he had seen no reason to suspect her to be cheating with Harry; let alone Harry cheating on him. They were friends weren't they?
That was another thing Ron could not let go. Had it been anyone else he might have not been so hurt or angry. He would have been upset, but not this much.
Harry had been his friend since day one of their first year. The very idea of Harry betraying his trust and friendship had never entered into his mind, save for their fourth year….but that had been resolved. Just petty jealousy. This was out and out betrayal. He had a right to be angry.
He looked up to where he had ended up and found himself on the far side of the lake, about ten feet from a large oak tree. With a small sigh, he toed the snowy earth with the tip of his shoe. His mind wandered as he turned around so he could stare into the partially frozen lake. The full moon danced over the slushy water's edge and through the center of the cold water; but he was completely unaware of this because of the thoughts that poured through his mind.
^*^*^*
Draco stood silently, hidden in the depths of shadows from a rather large oak. He had once again been plagued by his 'inner demons' (as he called them) and found himself, once again, by the old tree. He had been out there for a good three hours already, just thinking, thinking about his future and his father.
He hated his father with a passion. He also hated his future with the same fierce emotion. Both entertwined and hooked together, all for the good of power and not a single option left open for Draco. He hated it; hated what his father wanted him to become, wanted him to do. He was already practically a full-fledged Death-Eater. He had played through, played the part of the complying son in hopes that before it got to far he could get out. His father, though, had very different plans for the young boy.
It was rapidly nearing Christmas Break and the last thing Malfoy wanted to do was to go home and face his father. The Dark Lord was rising rapidly now and was in much need of followers, Draco being one of them. He found out once that you do not fight their wishes (his father's and Voldemort's) or you would be punished.
His arm suddenly itched.
Pulling up the double padded sleeve of his robe revealing a black skull and snake on the inside of his forearm, he scratched irritadedly at the mark. They had practically held him down and burned it into his arm when he first spoke up about not thinking he wanted to be a Death-Eater. They would make sure to squelch any ideas about him not coming into his 'birthright'.
He never spoke up again.
Draco growled to himself, and with an angry huff pushed down his sleeve, deciding to fight back the burning sensation the mark now sent up his arm. Also deciding to fight the wave of nausea that went through his stomach every time he had to look at the damn thing.
He inhaled then exhaled deeply watching his breath form small clouds in front of his face. It was getting colder by the minute now that the sun had long since disappeared behind the horizon. Pulling his robes tighter around him he turned to look up at the glowing castle and saw the most delicious sight. A figure he knew all too well, cloaked in a thin black robe, with small silvery flakes of snow flecked in his scarlet red hair. He felt the heat rise to his face, making the coldness vanish with red stains across his cheeks.
That was another reason he hated the Dark Lord and his followers so much. He might not be fond of muggles, but he didn't hate them like they did. He never wanted to kill them or muggleborns. His mother had taught him better than that, to almost respect life. That is, she did, until his father found out and practically turned her into a submissive zombie. He still remembered her screams from the Cruciatus Curse. He once loved her, now he more pitied her than anything else. From that day on, he had given up fighting. If his own father could do that so callously to his own wife then he wouldn't even blink when doing that to his son.
Draco grimaced. He had been taught and told, and had it beaten into him that muggles were not to be tolerated, and neither should be those who tolerated them.
That had clashed dangerously with his growing 'crush' on the muggle-loving Weasley, Ron.
He had no clue why he became attracted to someone he would never be allowed to have, or be welcome around because of all his put-downs and insults. Maybe it was the way he was so passionate about his friends, something Draco wished he could share.
Ron shivered violently from the lack of protection his robe offered and Draco was suddenly struck with a desire to wrap his arms around him. He looked so distant, so upset over something. But what? Surely he had to be mistaken, but if so, what was the reason Weasley was out here at the god-awfulest hour of the night.
Well, thought Draco dryly. Better not leave without letting known my presence. Draco took in the almost emotionless face of Ron, because once he put on the Oh-So-Evil-Draco-Malfoy persona that had kept him alive through his child and teenage years, Ron would only look at him in pure hatred. He didn't look forward to it, but it was how it had to be.
Sighing silently to himself, he straightened up, put on his trademark sneer, and leaned against the tree just within sight of Weasley.
"Well, well, well. If it isn't Weasel, Potter's little lackey!" He drawled then watched Ron twist around, looking for him. As he saw that Ron had spotted him and commenced to glare daggers into the semi-darkness, he felt an odd mixture of feelings for the redhead. At the same time of getting a joyous kick out of tormenting Weasley, he hated himself for continuing with this masqurade. Maybe someday he could actually be happy. Until then, he would make sure no one was happy.
END OF CHAPTER 1!!!!!!
Don't sue me okay!?! None of these characters are mine because the great JK Rowling created and gave these characters life!! They are hers and no one elses!! Besides, I have nothing…only some action figures and a fuzzy dragon poster.
Read and Review!! I need all the support I can get.
Hidden Feelings~chapter 1~Midnight Musings
He had no idea what made him come out here. He had expected his feet to carry him to one of the many hidden rooms in the castle, or perhaps the astronomy tower, but no; his feet carried him out onto the cold grounds.
Ron pulled his robe tighter and pressed on nearer and nearer to the great lake.
How could that have happened? Ron's mind poured over the scene in his mind. Over and over he saw them. Saw him. The wind picked up, turning colder as he trudged through the inch deep snow that covered the once verdant grass of Hogwarts. He bit his lip against the cold and pushed on, trying to get as far away from the castle as possible.
His heart felt completely shattered. His body felt weak and stiff. But he, he, felt betrayed and lied to. How could they have done this to me!? My own friends!! He had made his way to the lake and proceeded to follow it's edge to the border of The Forbidden Forest. He stumbled a bit as he crunched through the icing snow. The thought of Hermione with his lover was making his stomach turn. It was sickening. He did truly care for Harry. As a friend and as something more, but not now. Not after tonight.
Harry was now Headboy and therefore had a room to himself. Ron had thought that this privacy was a blessing, and hadn't even considered the thought that there might have been someone else sharing Harry's bed when he wasn't there. Hermione had been named Headgirl and also had a room to herself, not 3 feet away across the hall. But they were all friends. He knew Harry and Hermione were once an item and he now knew that Harry was bi, but he had seen no reason to suspect her to be cheating with Harry; let alone Harry cheating on him. They were friends weren't they?
That was another thing Ron could not let go. Had it been anyone else he might have not been so hurt or angry. He would have been upset, but not this much.
Harry had been his friend since day one of their first year. The very idea of Harry betraying his trust and friendship had never entered into his mind, save for their fourth year….but that had been resolved. Just petty jealousy. This was out and out betrayal. He had a right to be angry.
He looked up to where he had ended up and found himself on the far side of the lake, about ten feet from a large oak tree. With a small sigh, he toed the snowy earth with the tip of his shoe. His mind wandered as he turned around so he could stare into the partially frozen lake. The full moon danced over the slushy water's edge and through the center of the cold water; but he was completely unaware of this because of the thoughts that poured through his mind.
^*^*^*
Draco stood silently, hidden in the depths of shadows from a rather large oak. He had once again been plagued by his 'inner demons' (as he called them) and found himself, once again, by the old tree. He had been out there for a good three hours already, just thinking, thinking about his future and his father.
He hated his father with a passion. He also hated his future with the same fierce emotion. Both entertwined and hooked together, all for the good of power and not a single option left open for Draco. He hated it; hated what his father wanted him to become, wanted him to do. He was already practically a full-fledged Death-Eater. He had played through, played the part of the complying son in hopes that before it got to far he could get out. His father, though, had very different plans for the young boy.
It was rapidly nearing Christmas Break and the last thing Malfoy wanted to do was to go home and face his father. The Dark Lord was rising rapidly now and was in much need of followers, Draco being one of them. He found out once that you do not fight their wishes (his father's and Voldemort's) or you would be punished.
His arm suddenly itched.
Pulling up the double padded sleeve of his robe revealing a black skull and snake on the inside of his forearm, he scratched irritadedly at the mark. They had practically held him down and burned it into his arm when he first spoke up about not thinking he wanted to be a Death-Eater. They would make sure to squelch any ideas about him not coming into his 'birthright'.
He never spoke up again.
Draco growled to himself, and with an angry huff pushed down his sleeve, deciding to fight back the burning sensation the mark now sent up his arm. Also deciding to fight the wave of nausea that went through his stomach every time he had to look at the damn thing.
He inhaled then exhaled deeply watching his breath form small clouds in front of his face. It was getting colder by the minute now that the sun had long since disappeared behind the horizon. Pulling his robes tighter around him he turned to look up at the glowing castle and saw the most delicious sight. A figure he knew all too well, cloaked in a thin black robe, with small silvery flakes of snow flecked in his scarlet red hair. He felt the heat rise to his face, making the coldness vanish with red stains across his cheeks.
That was another reason he hated the Dark Lord and his followers so much. He might not be fond of muggles, but he didn't hate them like they did. He never wanted to kill them or muggleborns. His mother had taught him better than that, to almost respect life. That is, she did, until his father found out and practically turned her into a submissive zombie. He still remembered her screams from the Cruciatus Curse. He once loved her, now he more pitied her than anything else. From that day on, he had given up fighting. If his own father could do that so callously to his own wife then he wouldn't even blink when doing that to his son.
Draco grimaced. He had been taught and told, and had it beaten into him that muggles were not to be tolerated, and neither should be those who tolerated them.
That had clashed dangerously with his growing 'crush' on the muggle-loving Weasley, Ron.
He had no clue why he became attracted to someone he would never be allowed to have, or be welcome around because of all his put-downs and insults. Maybe it was the way he was so passionate about his friends, something Draco wished he could share.
Ron shivered violently from the lack of protection his robe offered and Draco was suddenly struck with a desire to wrap his arms around him. He looked so distant, so upset over something. But what? Surely he had to be mistaken, but if so, what was the reason Weasley was out here at the god-awfulest hour of the night.
Well, thought Draco dryly. Better not leave without letting known my presence. Draco took in the almost emotionless face of Ron, because once he put on the Oh-So-Evil-Draco-Malfoy persona that had kept him alive through his child and teenage years, Ron would only look at him in pure hatred. He didn't look forward to it, but it was how it had to be.
Sighing silently to himself, he straightened up, put on his trademark sneer, and leaned against the tree just within sight of Weasley.
"Well, well, well. If it isn't Weasel, Potter's little lackey!" He drawled then watched Ron twist around, looking for him. As he saw that Ron had spotted him and commenced to glare daggers into the semi-darkness, he felt an odd mixture of feelings for the redhead. At the same time of getting a joyous kick out of tormenting Weasley, he hated himself for continuing with this masqurade. Maybe someday he could actually be happy. Until then, he would make sure no one was happy.
END OF CHAPTER 1!!!!!!