A/N: Alright. I had to totally rewrite the first chapter to my newest fanfic A Dangerous Infatuation, as labeled below. It's just that I had this bright idea for this story in particular and I had to get my thoughts out before I posted it, but I didn't like my first draft. I am much happier with this draft though and I'm really excited to see how it does! And also this will be a HG/DM pairing. For those of you who hate those… So be warned! I used to hate them until I actually took the time to read one. :P. And now I want to attempt one of my own!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, or settings such as the Malfoy Manor in this story. All belong to the brilliant novelist J.K Rowling. However the plot is mine.

Longer Summary: Draco Malfoy is a lost deranged young man, and to her he is untouchable. A forbidden infatuation is growing even though it may not be mutual for both of the people involved. And for Hermione Granger it may be lethal. Will she run from him, or may she be the only one that can wake him up and bring him out of the darkness that is his world?

Pffft. :( I've never been very good at summaries. Sometimes I find they're over dramatic… Anyways hope I sucked you in.

A Dangerous Infatuation

In the Death Garden: A Field of Black Roses

Thunder.

He laid in the midst of a field of black roses. Lightning flashed across the sky in the early morning light. Dawn was approaching quickly although you couldn't see it through the swirling gray clouds. He felt an ice-cold rain drop trickle down his pale cheek and he wiped it away quickly, for it chilled his skin. He brought his trench coat around his body tightly and then stood, letting his hands rise up to his shoulders, his palms turned towards the sky as if offering himself to the thunder that boomed above his head.

The rain pelted him, landing against his bare collarbone and the wind blew his trench coat back off of his shoulders. He let his head fall back enjoying this electric sensation that wriggled over every inch of exposed pale flesh as another loud crack erupted in the sky. He was in love with the storm, and with his own secret Death Garden.

The roses had grown a few miles away from the Malfoy Manor decades ago. It was said that black roses only sprouted on cursed ground, and he could understand perfectly well why they'd chosen to spread on his father's land. He looked around him and found that the roses were sweating, droplets of blood red dew appearing on every inch of their petals. The corners of his mouth turned up in a smirk. This is what he'd been waiting for.

Slowly moisture began to fill the rows between the roses, seeping past his combat boots thickly in red streams. The blood of his ancestors and enemies feeding the negative life force. It was said in the book of Malfoy History that a war had been fought on these very grounds, and whenever it rained, the Death Garden would come to life to feed the roses to sustain them for a hundred more years.

It's what he loved about this field… It was immortal and it always stayed the same. It was impossible to pull the rose bushes from the ground seeing as the land around them kept them firmly placed where they had grown. And if you some how succeeded in removing a bush, it was said a million more bushes would sprout to fill the hole. Not only that but the wizard that removed the sacred shrub would die because the thorns were poisonous.

Black petals blew randomly in the strong roar of wind and around his face and he smiled up at the sky. This was where he came to think. This was where he came to be alive.

Draco Malfoy couldn't recall the day that his life had taken a turn for the worst. Nothing extremely traumatizing had happened to him to make him change… It was more or less that he simply fell into a deep dark personal hell that he'd conjured up all on his own. In this hell he was swallowed by a darkness so deluding that he merely succumbed to it and lost all sight of himself and what he used to be.

Once his grandfather had told him, that sometimes, dark wizards just snapped. There was no cause or reason for it… It just sort of happened. Those were almost his exact words. But as far as Draco could tell, he was no dark wizard… He was only a boy. A boy with some serious issues.

But his Grandpa Vasilis had been speaking of his only son Lucius Malfoy.

"Evil can ruin a man Dragon," he'd told his seven-year-old grandson one day as Draco sat playing with Legos on the carpet. "It draws you in by tempting you with all of the power, and glory, and success you can have. Sure, an evil man can rule the world… But only if he wants to be the loneliest man to ever walk the Earth. Remember that Dragon."

"Yes Grandpa," Draco had said quietly. Even though it hadn't seemed like the boy was very interested in what his grandfather had to say, Vasilis knew different. Draco was an intelligent boy, but he feared for his only grand child. He sensed a weakness in his little Dragon, and this fear was that he was not strong enough to overcome the lure of darkness. Draco was too fascinated with it already.

Draco wished he could tell his grandfather that he'd listened to every word that the eldest Malfoy had to say to him. He had lapped it up like a thirsty dog would have. Yet, how was it that ten years later he had found himself so lost? Just as his grandfather had predicted, Draco had snapped. And as far as Draco could tell, there was no reason for it… It just happened. He pushed his blonde hair out of his eyes and ran a pale hand over his sharp features.

He hadn't been dragged down by the evils of the world though… But something had caused this…something beyond his thoughts and reasoning… And somehow he knew it would be a long time before he stumbled out of his whirling oblivion.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Lucius," Narcissa said dully. She stood by the dining room window holding a cup of coffee in her right hand, her black satin robe tied around her thin frame. Her blue eyes traveled along the murky grounds of the Malfoy Manor searching for her wayward son Draco. Of course he was nowhere to be found and butterflies of worry nagged at her insides.

"Yes?" he asked, slowly turning a page in the Daily Prophet.

"The boy is gone again," she muttered. She ran a hand through her long blonde hair and set her coffee down on the windowsill.

"You don't say?" he asked offhandedly. He took a sip of his orange juice and continued to read.

"He's been sneaking around an awful lot lately," Narcissa went on. "Very distant and secretive…" She chewed on her lip.

"He's around here somewhere," Lucius mumbled. "He couldn't have gone far."

Narcissa picked up her mug again and went towards the entrance hall of the Manor muttering darkly to herself. She hated that Lucius was so careless when it came to their son.

She trudged down the hall in her black slippers, and turned left entering another corridor that led into the greenhouse, in turn ending up on the back yard patio. She stopped by the window, not wanting to brave the weather that had turned ugly over night. There, a pale form clad in black caught her eye.

There he was, coming through the garden gate, drenched through and through with rain. She sighed. He'd been to the garden behind the house again. She didn't understand what it was Draco liked so much about that eerie place, but whatever it was it kept him returning to it as often as possible. He clutched a few long stemmed black roses in a thick handkerchief as he made his way towards the Manor.

She decided she could handle being exposed to a bit of cold air and raindrops so she entered the backyard, but stayed under the canopy.

"I've been looking around for you," she called to him, realizing the rain was a lot heavier than it had appeared. He looked up from his feet, surprised to find Narcissa waiting for him. "How long have you been gone for?"

He walked under the patio and stopped a few feet away from her.

"I don't know," he said.

"Well you had me worried," Narcissa said sternly. "You must have been gone a pretty long time. I've been up since five o'clock."

"I went just before dawn," Draco replied. "And why were you up so early? I intended to be back before you and father woke."

"The storm," Narcissa said shortly. He nodded once and then headed towards the sliding glass door leading into the green house.

"Where do you think you're going?" his mother asked shrilly.

"Inside," Draco replied. "I'm freezing my arse off out here. And by the looks of it so are you."

Narcissa looked down at her bare wrists to see that small goose bumps had formed, the little blonde hairs standing on end.

"So it seems," she agreed. "But I want to have a word with you before we go back inside."

Draco rolled his eyes and leaned against the frame of the glass door that stood slightly ajar. He then looked at her expectantly.

"I want these little escapades of yours to stop," she said bluntly. "I don't need you wondering off in the middle of the night endangering yourself while I'm unaware that you've gone."

"Alright…" Draco said. "Anything else?"

"I'm serious Draco Lucifer Malfoy!" she snapped at him.

"Mother, you're being ridiculous. I never leave the Malfoy grounds," Draco said tonelessly. "Now if you'll excuse me."

"No I won't!" Narcissa bellowed. "What has gotten into you? You've never behaved this way towards me before. Such disrespect!"

Draco looked surprised that his mother had lost it so quickly.

"I want an explanation for your strange conduct!" she snapped. A pink tinge had appeared in her cheeks making her look younger than she really was. Her blue eyes had gone icy with anger.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Draco said, his brow furrowed.

"You're different," Narcissa pushed out, struggling for the right way to say what she felt. It had always been difficult for Narcissa to express here feelings. She was not a very demonstrative woman… Naturally cold. But she had tried to show Draco that she cared for and loved him. "You are not the son I remember…"

"Well mother, people change," Draco said bluntly. "They grow up and turn into someone different."

"No," Narcissa said, looking her son in his gray eyes, which had become cold over the years. "Something is off about you."

"I don't know what to tell you," he said sarcastically, his eyebrows raised. "I've always been a bit off."

Narcissa rolled her eyes.

"Besides, what's your definition of off?" Draco went on rudely. "Because in my opinion the whole Malfoy family is sort of fu-"

But he was cut of sharply by his mother's hand passing roughly across his face. He stumbled backwards slightly, holding his steadily reddening cheek.

"I don't ever want to hear such crude insults come out of your mouth about your own flesh and blood," Narcissa growled venomously at her son. "I did not raise you to speak in such a way!"

With that lingering in the air and one last severe glare from his mother, Draco was left alone on the patio, stunned. Really now, what had gotten into him?

A/N: Okay. I had posted this yesterday night, but I was not at all happy with the way it turned out. So here it is again, for a second attempt. The way I see it, if you get bored writing a chapter to a story, then you should rethink what you've written. Anyways, I enjoyed writing this chapter so I hope you enjoyed reading it, enough to possibly leave me a review:D

Oh yeah, and Hermione will be showing up quite soon so look out for the next chapter!

Love, Jessie!