Title: Black and Deep Desires
By Dr. Kim-chan
Me: And we're back! Since you three liked the first chapter so much, let's see how you like the 2nd one!
All 3: (still grumbling)
Me: (sighs in exasperation) Shape up, you lot! The reviews are gonna start pouring in! (lays out the blue carpet) I am so excited!
Draco: Aren't we all. Who wants more Gummi Bears?
Harry: Me!
Ron: I thought it was supposed to be a red carpet.
Me: I had no red carpet, so I had to get the next best thing. It was either that or lime-green.
Ron: Ick.
Me: My point exactly. Rolling Chapter Two! (clicks her remote)
(Begin Chap. 2)
...The hour crept close to one in the morning. Around the perimeter of the foreboding Riddle House, the people of Little Hangleton kept its distance away from the mansion of murders past gone.
This house and the nearby graveyard were the unofficial headquarters of the Death Eaters…in Britain, anyway. Voldemort had been in the process of making a decision of whether to take his operations to a global scale. But he declined and said 'no' to Wormtail's proposal. His conflict did not rest with the world; it rested only within Dumbledore and Harry Potter. Everything was going according to plan well enough. Yet there was a recent advancement which the Dark Lord hadn't expected. At this afternoon's raid on Diagon Alley, Lucius Malfoy brought back a souvenir—Potter's treasured friend, Ron Weasley. Not knowing what to do with their newfound prisoner-of-war, they stashed the unconscious boy in a second-floor room for the moment.
At the moment, two doors away, in a room with a lit hearth, Nagini slithered across the old floorboards, eventually coming to rest by her master's feet. In a large chair sat the Dark Lord himself, hidden by the night's shadows. In front of him, Lucius stood, trying to make maximum eye contact. Not even Voldemort's most trusted Death Eater could stand to look into his bloodshot pupils for too long. Another reason was due to the fact that he knew his master was very angry, and a Death Eater had to do everything in his power to avoid that mistake.
"I said it before we started the assault on Diagon Alley, I said it the night before, and I said it once more as we continued our operation to find Potter in the Leaky Cauldron. What part of 'take no prisoners', pray tell, did you not understand!"
Lucius shuddered.
"Please don't take it as a failure to heed your instructions, my lord. I only thought it'd be in our best interests to seize the opportunity. Besides, Potter had a mind to try and attack me. I needed a shield."
"Did you also take the time to think that probably the boy's friend will sooner or later come looking for him?" Voldemort hissed.
"Potter didn't dare move. I used the Avada Kedavra bluff…and how would they know where we are? No one knows the whereabouts of our headquarters."
"Then consider this, my loyal servant. Why did you reveal your identity? Now that the Order knows you escaped from Azkaban, there's no telling what lengths they'll go to."
"Are you insinuating that the Ministry will have the nerve to interrogate my family?" Lucius inquired.
"The Ministry of Magic may be cowardly, but when it comes to discovering information, they're as ruthless as they come. Also, you failed to see that the Order of the Phoenix was battling our forces as well."
"The Order of the Phoenix…those mongrels haven't shown their faces since fifteen years ago. They were easy to defeat."
"Still, it looks like they regrouped, but not by much."
"How about this? I can take this blunder and turn it into our strength. We can keep both the Order and the Ministry at bay by taking the young Weasley boy as a hostage," Lucius offered.
"To ask for what in return?"
"Finances. I cannot afford to provide the Death Eaters a budget anymore, what with the Ministry freezing my assets at Gringotts."
"Really, Malfoy. To stoop so low as to ask for monetary reparations."
"With all due respect, my lord, we're in no position to be choosy about strategies. I am aware that you recently employed a respected alchemist who won't work for free. Callisto Zabini?"
Voldemort was beaten, but he didn't let it show right away. Malfoy was right in saying that the Death Eaters would lose their only potential alchemist if they didn't come up with at least 1,320 Galleons. In order for the current phase of his plan to succeed, they needed the expertise of Callisto Zabini no matter what the price. But no one else in Voldemort's ranks had that kind of financial security. No, he didn't have a choice in the matter.
"Fine. You have my permission to send the conditions to the Order—"
Satisfied, Lucius began walking towards the doorway.
"—and whatever you do—"
Lucius stopped.
"—do not kill the boy. If he becomes a problem, you may discipline him, but do not kill him under any circumstances. He is no imminent threat, and we do not want to find ourselves in a worse situation than what you've already placed us in. If the Order does come up with the money, we want to keep them occupied," ordered Voldemort. "If we kill him, they'll assume we're up to our old tricks and attack with no hesitation. However, if we surrender him unharmed, they and the Ministry of Magic will have no choice but to fall into our trap. And he cannot stay here. Relocate our 'guest' to somewhere more comfortable."
"Yes, my lord. I'll take him to my manor."
…Blue eyes scanned their surroundings. He felt the cold metal on his wrists, the chains clinking against one another. When his eyes fully adjusted to the light, Ron noticed that his body was lying on a soft material—a bed. Bright candlelight, silk…where was he?
He looked down at himself. Still wearing the pants, sweater, and robe he had worn on that fateful day…
Then the memories flooded back to the dazed redhead. The attack on Diagon Alley. Peter Pettigrew standing in front of the entrance. Lupin had attempted to save him, but the yellow light from Pettigrew's wand hit him first.
Minding his returning headache, Ron checked off a list of all the possible places he could be. He certainly wasn't at St. Mungo's. It would've been much warmer than this room, and they didn't have silk beds or chains. Therefore, he wasn't back at the Burrow either. Then he gasped audibly as he realized what had happened.
The Death Eaters had taken him prisoner.
He groaned, resting his head back on what felt like a pillow. First the whole Sorcerer's Stone and Devil's Snare fiasco, the bout with Professor Lockhart in the Chamber of Secrets, the webs of deceit, lies, and werewolves in third year, the Triwizard Tournament, the escapade in the Department of Mysteries last year…and now this.
"How the bloody hell do I get myself into these messes?" Ron muttered.
"Because you're stupid enough to tag along with Potter all the time."
Hearing a familiar drawling voice, Ron sat straight upright in shock…or tried to. The short chains painfully retracted his arms, and he immediately fell back onto the bed. Learning from that mistake, he slowly sat up at the most beneficial angle possible.
His jaw dropped.
If he didn't know any better, Ron could've sworn he was looking at Draco Malfoy sitting on the edge of the bed. The dizzying sensation came back.
"Tell me this is a nightmare," complained the redhead. Draco shook his head in mock sympathy, reaching over to fondle the metallic bonds with his thin fingers.
"Unfortunately for you it isn't. You can't begin to comprehend how happy I'm feeling right now, Weasel, seeing you so helpless. You, Potter, Granger, and the rest of those idiots just can't stop playing hero. I guess this'll teach them a lesson."
Ron bristled, but kept his calm. He wouldn't be able to fight back even if he wanted to. The chains kept him confined to the silk-laden bed.
"Where are we?"
"Look around."
Ron frowned. "I'd love to, Malfoy, but I'm tied to the bed at the moment!"
"Must it be sarcasm with you? For your information, you're at the Malfoy Manor. Specifically, you're in one of our spare rooms, and you're now a hostage of the Death Eaters. I just dropped by to check up on you. When Father told me you were here, I just had to see for myself."
"Why the chains? I could've stayed in the bed. I was unconscious, for goodness' sakes!"
"Like we'd really leave you here to wake up and escape. Weasley, you're such an empty-headed reject."
"Don't test me, Malfoy. I may be chained down by the arms, but my legs are free to kick your arse."
"Tsk, tsk. Such language. I guess they don't teach you any manners down in that pigsty of a house you live in."
His patience wearing thin with Draco's usual insults, Ron ignored his manacles and writhed about, attempting to make some type of bodily contact with the blonde. Breezily, Draco jumped off the bedside to evade his wild kicks, turning his attention to the bowl of cold water on the nightstand. Feeling angrier now that he was being ignored, loud thumping was now heard all around the room as he tried to break free. Suddenly, Ron stopped as he felt a warm drip of liquid cascade from each of his wrists. Staring at the same place, Draco clicked his tongue and briefly dipped a washcloth into the ceramic bowl.
"Try not to tire yourself out, Weasley. These aren't freshly oiled chains. See, you're bleeding."
Ron wanted to point out Draco's inconsistencies yet again, since he couldn't see much of anything in his current position, but what occurred next astonished him. The blonde sat down again, this time up closer to enable himself to reach over and touch either wrist. Carefully lifting the chains, he soothed Ron's injuries with the freezing wet cloth. Draco was acting like a nursemaid—to his closest enemy, no less! The more awe-inspiring aspect was that neither boy was fazed by what was happening, as if it occurred naturally their entire lives. Dipping the cloth in the bowl again to rinse off the bloodstains, Draco started again, holding the cloth to Ron's pounding forehead and rhythmically rubbing it back and forth across his brow. The headache was disappearing, but that didn't distract Ron from regarding how close the other boy's face was to his own.
To top it off, Draco began whispering in his ear.
"Let's not bring our petty fights outside of Hogwarts. You're at my house; that makes you my guest. Granted you're a guest in chains, but a guest nevertheless…I've never been this close to you, Weasley. It's a pleasant change of pace. Maybe I can finally confess how I really feel about you and Potter…"
Shocked beyond all rational thought, Ron was about to ask what things Draco wanted to 'confess'.
But before he could, a tall dark figure stood in the threshold…
(End Chap. 2)
Draco: That sounds like D/R to me!
Harry: Definitely.
Ron: Ew. Now Malfoy and his dad have to…(gulp)…share me?
Me: I didn't make any promises that this wasn't going to be D/R, now did I? Besides, it nicely tied up the scene. Can't you imagine Draco leaning ever so 'innocently' over Ron, cleaning his wounds and whispering in his ear…that low voice and warm breath? It's the makings of a good plot twist later in the story! Well, what'd ya think?
Harry: What's the deal with that new 'Zabini' character you're about to introduce? Haven't I heard that name somewhere before?
Me: Yep, from the enigmatic Blaise Zabini that pops up in some fanfics. Most claim it's "Zabini Blaise", but it isn't. Believe me. When McGonagall calls the names for the Sorting, she always says last name first, so it's the other way around. But I digress. The only thing we know about Blaise is that he's a Slytherin. Since Blaise is obviously a freelance character we can throw around and conform to fit plot holes in our stories, I say that HE (yes, he) is a Slytherin in the same year as you, and that he's from a prominent family who specializes in alchemy. Callisto is his father. Blaise plays a major part later.
Draco: I'm just shocked by the end of this chapter. How can I love that redheaded monster?
Ron: Well, you could TRY.
Harry:…Did that sound like what I think it sounded like?
Ron: No. No. Absolutely not. It didn't. Nope.
Harry: (teasingly) Oh? You don't want the Malfoys sharing you, but you don't mind sharing Draco with me.
Me: Hey! This is getting too freaky!
Harry: Blame Ron. He's the one that wants a threesome.
Ron: Shut up! (chases Harry around the theater)
Draco: And they wonder why you rated this 'R'.
Me: Gah. Not only is he sassy, but Harry's now a pervert, too. C'est la vie.