Disclaimer: do not now or will not ever in the future, own the characters,
places and other copyrightable stuff written by Ms.Rowling (theyre
just…borrowed …for this fic), the rest is all mine, mine I tell you….(cackling
laugh). On to the fic.
DRACO DORMIENS NUNQUAM EXCIEOCITUM
It Begins
His eyes were closed as an icy gust of wind brushed his face. It swept through
his hair, cold fingers entangling themselves in the fine silken strands, then
gliding over his cheeks,lightly and into his lungs. He took great gasping
breaths of the air, it felt like he hadn't breathed for days, as if he had never
really breathed at all.
It was cold, it was always cold these days it seemed, even when they were
sitting in front of the fireplace. Not that he minded, to him the cold was
associated with clear thinking, sharp senses, like the razor edges of a
velluvian crystal.
Did the others feel the cold like he did? Did it penetrate into each and every
sinew, each nerve, making their very blood shine like silver? Did it give them a
sense of being born again, of renewed strength and energy, burning white like
the hottest flame?
The sky glittered with the light of a million stars, all distant, moving in
tandem, living proof of the most ancient magic. That's why he was here, a voice
said, and it was a moment before he realized he had spoken aloud.
He tried to bring up the old arguments again, his background, his parents, his
destiny, his bloodline…but it was still as right as it ever had been, the
feeling of certainty – solid and real like the sword that was clutched tightly
in his hand.
The same cold fingers rustled the dry leaves and a few fluttered to the ground.
Reds and browns, yellows and gold, like the remnants of a great festival. Soon
it would be winter and the earthen colours would sleep under the snow waiting to
awaken to the call of spring.
"When will you awaken Drago?" an ancient old crone had asked him once, but it
was his father who had answered, " He will, when the call comes. The lord will
not be denied."
'Now he would decide', he thought, although that was not entirely true, 'now was
the time to awaken' he amended, the decision had been made long ago.
The surface of the lake was already frozen, a testament to the weather that had
been since the rising had begun. Only if you looked really hard and really deep,
could you see the faint shadows that moved, silent, under the surface to show
that life existed in the depths. Otherwise it just gleamed, that surface, a
colour that was difficult to define since it did not appear to be constant.
Shades of grey tinged with myriad blues, shining silvers, even dull white at
times.
An undisturbed span of ice, that was smooth and unbroken until the
occasional skater scratched the surface, or someone particularly pigheaded was
foolish enough to try and fish, and take the risk of cutting through the ice and
making himself known to the creatures that lived within.
Feet were moving toward him, he could hear the footfalls, light…firm. They
stopped, and he waited. Then a voice that matched the footsteps perfectly.
"Draco", he opened his eyes.