Warning: This fic does and will contain Slash pairings.
Disclaimer: Not Mine. J.K. Rowling's!
A/N: I originally started this nearly three years ago, but pulled it down mid-last year as I realised it was never going to go anywhere. But, I'm restless, and feel the need to finish something, even if it is pointless. *grin* Read and review!
Silence of the Night
The sound of footsteps echoed loud through the silent halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was late, probably close to midnight. Darkness enveloped the silence, and it was only the sound of hard footsteps, which penetrated the tranquillity of the school.
Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived was breathless. As he sharply rounded the corner he came face to face with the Gargoyles which symbolised the entrance to Dumbledore's quarters. The sight of the Gargoyles was almost too much for Harry, however there was no time to contemplate what else could possibly happen as he heard the unmistakable footsteps of the not-so-friendly care-taker, Filch, falling close behind his. He had been running for close to an hour, desperately trying to get away from Filch and his feline friend, Mrs Norris. He hadn't expected to be running, but events had taken a not so pleasant turn and unexpectedly backfired.
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Deep in the dungeons, on the other side of the school, tucked tight in his four poster mahogany bed lay Draco Malfoy, nemesis of the Boy-Who-Lived. Fully aware of the distress in which his nemesis was currently enduring Draco sighed and turned to sleep with a peaceful, contented grace.
It had been six years since Draco had met Harry, and the two had immediately formed a genuine dislike for the other.
Draco hated the way Harry moved, the way he talked, the way he sat. He hated the way he found comfort in his friends, the way he enjoyed their company. He hated that he was better than him, hated the fact that it was him that everyone loved, that it was him that kept saving the world. He hated him! He hated him with all his heart and soul. He poured his entire essence into hating him. And in hating him, he ravished him, adored him, and unbeknown to him, loved him.
A midnight duel, an illusion to all those around them, a facade for their adoration to be released. So simple a plan, and yet so complicated…
A false laugh. A Sharp cry. Rustling of clothes. The quick intake of breath. Walls cracking. Emotions cloaked in darkness. Fighting. Free. The sound of footsteps. Again the laugh. Not false, but real filled with malice. Emotions once again hidden. Walls strengthened. Words muffled. A chaste kiss. Cursing. Gone. Love so close, yet so far away.
And as Draco slept his mind crept once again to the raven-haired beauty, and his heart sang with words of love and adoration. One day such love would be known, but for now it contended with shying away and bidding its time.
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Stilling his breath Harry made his last frantic dash toward the Gryffindor Tower. Muttering the password and collapsing inside the dim-lit common room, Harry was finally able to reflect upon the evening's events. Musings of hated and love ran rampant through Harry's mind…
Sounded hate and muted love. Deception. A midnight duel. Hatred and passion burning slowly together. Floodgates of emotions opened. Deceived. Love denied. Silent cursing. Madness and chaos. Love trapped. Hatred released. Nemesis and lover gone. Footsteps pounding. Hatred growing. Love fading. Reality ensuing…
Damn, Draco Malfoy!!!
Fighting sleep, Harry sighed and stood, slowly making his way toward the staircase at the far end of the common room. Eyes and ears closed to the world, Harry climbed the stairs and sighed gratefully when he came to the door of his dormitory. Making his way toward his trunk Harry changed quickly. Pulling back the drapes to his bed, Harry carefully pulled the bed covers aside. Turning from the bed Harry took off his glasses and lay them carefully on the bed cabinet. Now unable to see, Harry stumbled back to what he thought was his bed.
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A dark shadow lurked not far from Harry Potter. Watching with interest and amusement as the infamous boy stumbled foolishly toward his bed. Silently the shadow closed the distance between the two, firmly placing one hand on the raven-haired boys shoulder, and the other over his mouth. The boy jolted, tried in vain to turn around and reveal his capture. Both hands hardened their grip. And the silence of the school was once again disturbed, this time by the muffled screams of the Boy-Who-Lived.
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In the deep silence of the dungeons Draco Malfoy woke with a start and cried out in pain and desperation.