Disclaimer: Harry Potter and other characters belong to J.K. Rowling. This author makes no claim on them or any other part of the Harry Potter sensation; only the original characters, places, and plot belong to this author.
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WARNING: Alternate universe. Some original characters. Future slash pairing, meaning in a male homosexual relationship. This won't show up for a while, but the warning is still here. If you don't like it, then why are you reading it?
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..::Draconis Sanguen::..
Chapter 1
Anger swept through his veins as he laid there, a prone form on the train's compartment floor. Muttering to himself, Draco tried to fight his way free of the curses as he had so many dark ones before. Shimmering silver light surrounded him as his anger and frustration rose. It was never meant to happen like that. He had done as he was expected to, played to the expectations of everyone. Of his father, of Potter, of Dumbledore, of the entire Wizarding Community. And what happened? He had been cursed. The Weasel, his brothers, the Mudblood and Potter had cursed him.
Enveloping his prone form, the silvery light reaches its brilliant crescendo before fading, leaving no trace of its existence behind. Shaken, Draco managed to stand once more, the marks of the hexes no longer covering him. Confused, he slightly wondered just how he had broken free of their curses. Mentally berating himself for not deflecting the curses, Draco quickly picked up his wand and moved to his fallen 'friends'. After freeing both Crabbe and Goyle, who ran from the compartment as quickly as possible, Draco took a seat by the window rather than following the other two boys.
When he had entered that compartment, intent on teasing the infamous Harry Potter and his friends, he had never expected retaliation. He knew that he had carried it a bit too far, though he would never willingly admit that to anyone. He was Draco Malfoy, son of an inner circle Death Eater, godson of a Death Eater turned spy, and the presumed follower in their footsteps. He had been expected from birth that he would follow that path. He had been trained in the dark arts since he was old enough to walk. Tutored in potions, lectured in the history and use of dark magic, taught volumes of dark curses, trained in concealing magical use from the Ministry. Everything that could be done to mold his young mind to the Dark Arts had been done. Shuddering, Draco realigned his thoughts from the things that had haunted him for so much of his life. He supposed that since he had been trained only to think for the Dark side, he had grown curious of what it was that his father so opposed of . . . the light.
Slowly, the blonde haired Slytherin changed out of his school robes, replacing them with a pair of smoky grey dress pants and a white silk button up dress shirt. He knew that when he joined the muggles at the station, he would have to blend in with the non magic. Sighing, he made his way, retrieving his trunk and his owl from his compartment. Replacing the robes into the trunk, his mind soon wandered back to thoughts of what his summer lesson would be about . . . or if now, with Voldemort back in power, it would be more than a lesson, but an experience that could haunt him for a lifetime.
Draco was quickly shaken from his reverie by the snarling voice of Severus Snape, Potions master and Professor at Hogwarts. Exiting the compartment, Draco quickly found his godfather in an argument with the train's conductor, though Draco could never really classify it as an argument. It was more like Severus was glaring and insulting a cowering man. Smirking, Draco quickly announced his presence.
"Honestly Severus, I can't take you anywhere."
Draco's eyes quickly scanned the Professor's attire. He was so used to seeing the man in his dark billowing robes; he often forgot just what the man looked like in muggle dress. Still maintaining the dark colors, he was dressed in rich black dress pants, a dark green dress shirt donning over his well shaped form. Draco knew just what his godfather held beneath the dark cloaks, greasy hair, and cruel looks. He knew just what the man had suffered, endured, and worked for and against. Even now, with his hair hanging loose no longer carrying its greasy look, and his bat-like robes gone, when no one else would have been able to recognize him, Draco saw the tortured soul that was trapped behind layers of bitter hostility.
Snape quickly turned to face his godson. "There you are! I've been waiting for you. You know that you're supposed to meet me on the platform. I don't know why you even bother riding this thing. We could have easily left from Hogsmeade. All you ever do here is gang up on Potter. A bit old for that now aren't you?"
Ignoring Severus, Draco quickly walked from the train, followed by his godfather who was still ranting to him. Once off the train, the two companionably walked from the platform, pushing their way through the crowds of muggles. "Sorry about that Sev. Crabbe, Goyle, and I were . . . slightly indisposed." He said, choosing his words very carefully, yet, this did not fool the Potions Master.
"I suppose you were riling up the golden boy himself then?" He asked one dark eye brow rose questioningly. "I take it that it didn't go as you planned." He said with a deep smirk playing upon his countenance.
Sighing, Draco's posture immediately slouched. "No, not quite. No matter what we've done in the past, this is the first time he's actually taken action against us. And in such a . . . violent manner." Straightening his silk shirt, he regained his proper posture, walking with his usual air of confidence. "Oh well, the look on his face was more than enough for me. As for the curses . . . I can always return the favor later."
Severus regarded his godson with a tight smile. Shaking his head at the boy's antics, the two exited the station, immediately met with the familiar sight of the Rolls Royce. Draco parents were never the ones to pick him from the station, instead, a car was sent to retrieve him and his belongings. This time, Severus was accompanying him, called to the manor by Lucius.
The two rode together in companionable silence, occasionally exchanging a few words. For the most part, Draco merely stared out the window, contemplating the many things that had begun to plague his young mind. Voldemort was back, there was no use in denying the obvious truth. And with his return, came a number of changes. His father, the leader of the remaining Death Eaters, would once again return to the Dark Lords side.
And of course, a decision would be made.
Draco was shaken from his dark thoughts as the luxurious car came to a standstill by a large fountain in the middle of a small quaint town. Silently, the two males exited the car as the driver removed the trunk from the rear. Draco, holding his eagle owl's cage, silently lifted one end of his trunk, the other picked up by his godfather, and headed off, bidding the driver farewell, ignoring the curious look upon his face.
Making their way to the west side of the town, Draco looked about, taking in the refreshing sight around him. It was rare he saw the village; one that looked as if it had came from a muggle fairy tale book with its small shops next to each other, villagers greeting one another, each as if they were best friends. There was always something soothing for the young teen to watch, knowing that at this moment, happiness did exist, even in such a basic form as this.
Arriving by the water side, watching as the sun's light glinted off of the water, Draco looked about, searching for any prying eyes as they approached a large ancient tree. Similar to the spell around the entrance to Platform 9 and 3/4, no one would actually notice when they approached the giant tree, instead, their attention attracted elsewhere. Once under its vast branches, Draco's left hand, balled into a fist, met with the rough bark, his signet ring matching into the engraving of the ancient tree just as a key fit into a keyhole.
Much like Hogwarts, Malfoy Manor was an uncharted, un-plotable place, surrounded by protection wards that rivaled, if not exceeded, those at the Wizarding School. There were very few ways to enter the castle, and even less for those who did not carry the Malfoy blood through their veins. His signet ring was a key to many entrances; however, the ring was adapted to only fit upon the hand of a Malfoy. For those such as ministry officials, aurors, and other random visitors, they would merely follow the directions on the Malfoy record at the ministry. This would lead them to a stately mansion just outside of London. However, this was not their home, but a doorway to the Manor. After identification, one that was linked to the Manor, the doors would open as a direct portal to their true home, no one ever noticing that they were not inside of the mansion outside of London.
Lucius Malfoy was no fool. With a family history as dark as it was, the spells surrounding the family home as old as that, if not older, the head of the house had ensured that the true location of the manor be hidden from anyone not of their family. Severus Snape and Voldemort were perhaps the only two exceptions to this rule, being part of the few who knew of the uncharted island that the castle was situated on.
Almost no one could apparate into or out of Malfoy Manor. Only a few spots within the dark dungeons of the castle could this be done. Yet, the wards of the manor were modified to identify the magic of the residents of the home, allowing them the sole permission for apparition no matter their spot within the manor. A Portkey could only be used in a few instances, all depending on who had designed the key. If the magic used to alter the object as the transport vessel was one of the residents, the Portkey would work. However, if it were not, and it was merely another wizard spelling the object for a Portkey to the manor, access was most certainly denied, leaving the wizard with one or more body parts no longer in existence or unable to function. As for the Floo network . . . the Manor was in no way attached to it. It was simply not done within the Malfoy Castle. However, a small house owned by the Malfoys, just outside of the town Draco was currently in, was floo compatible. However, this too was lesser knowledge and of even lesser use. It was rarely used, only upon occasion that one would go from the Manor to the cottage, flooing to their desired location.
As an opening occurred within the tree, a set of spiral stairs gracing them with their presence the two moved within the vast trunk of the tree. As the door closed, torches immediately sprung to light, their silvery flames flickering in the unknown wind. Quietly, Draco cast a lightening and shrinking spell on his trunk, pocketing his luggage casually, carrying his owl's cage in his free hand. The tree was a root of Malfoy Manor, which immediately granted his ability to use magic without any knowledge to the ministry. Such was the benefit of such an ancient and stately family home.
Moving down the stairs, the two found themselves at the familiar sight of a single ornate boat. Once loaded, the ship moved with speed and grace over the dark waters of the underground cavern. The cavern was underneath miles of sea water, deep underneath the very water that lay outside of the small village. Every drip of water echoed through the hidden site, magnifying the soft sound to echo through its dark depths. Shadows danced, spurned on the by silvery light of the torches that the cavern walls bore. The water, impenetrable to light, of unknown depth, barely moved as the small boat moved across its surface. Draco had never asked just what the black waters held, nor did he desire to know.
Draco faintly remembered a time when his father had stood at the waters edge with him. He had been merely three years old, a miniature clone of his father, doing a perfect imitation of all that his family had stood for. Of course, the arrogance and other characteristics had been tinged his childish manner. With shining silver eyes, he had watched as his father enlarged a package he had carried from the manor to the water. Removing the paper, Draco had seen his father extract a large bone that still had fresh red meat hanging from its solid white surface. "Now watch me son. I will only show you this once. Never enter this water, lest you find yourself like this bone." Casting it into the black waters, Draco had watched with horrid fascination as the waters moved, tentacles and teeth appearing from no where, fighting over the single scrap in the water before disappearing into the dark depths, with only a few small bubbles of air to acknowledge its existence.
As the boat met with the harsh surface at the other end of the cavern, the two men exited the ship. More torches lined the walls of the stone walls at both the base as well as the round stairwell that the two ascended upon, ignoring the panel at the base that would lead to the dungeons of the manor. Once at the top of the stairs, Draco silently walked over to the cavern wall, once more matching his signet ring into an engraving. A large stone panel slid to the side, immediately opening its door to a well lit room. Draco walked through the passageway, placing his ring on the other side of the entrance, gesturing to his godfather to enter. Once Snape had moved through the doorway, Draco allowed his hand to drop, the door closing behind them, blending into an ordinary wall once more.
A small smile tugged on the corners of Draco's lips as his godfather wrapped an arm companionably around his neck, the two of them exiting the room through a rotating panel. Immediately they were greeted with the sight of the vast library, over three stories of bookshelves, holding the largest collection of wizarding publications known to the wizarding world. It held a copy of every book in existence, even if this was not known to those outside of their circle. Anything, dark or light, was held in its vast alcoves, always ready to be explored. Hanging the owl's cage on the large hook in the dark recesses of the room, Draco opened the cage door. His large eagle owl silently stared at him before moving out of its enclosure, moving to the cavernous ceilings and out of one of the many owl ports that were in designated places around the castle.
Instead of settling down with a book, something the blonde haired student did very often, he moved out of the comforting atmosphere in search of his parents. Ancient tapestries full of brilliant colors and images decorated the walls of many halls and rooms within the Manor. Paintings of the many generations of Malfoys hung on the walls, their stiff faces raised with arrogance at anyone who walked through the halls.
Draco had walked those stone hallways his entire life, not knowing anything else. Only an old stone castle full of valuable treasures and more rooms and corridors than he had time to explore. Most of his life had been spent in his own nursery as a child, or the library as he aged. There were many parts of his ancestral home he had never stepped foot in.
Knowing that it would be pointless to use a manual search for his parents, he pulled out his wand, ten inches, yew, dragon's heartstring. "Adductum Lucius Malfoy" [1] he said with a flick of his wrist. A small ball of pure silver light appeared in front of him, circling his head. Then, the small tracer lead the way down the hall, followed by both Draco and Severus, to the required destination of one Lucius Malfoy, head of the Malfoy house and family.
The clicking of the hard soles of their shoes resounded off the stone flooring, echoing as they made their way through a series of halls, heading into the western portion of the castle. The West wing of the Manor housed the rooms that belonged to the two elder Malfoys, the East wing to Draco himself. The small ball of light soon arrived at a set of white double doors, embossed with gold etchings. These doors were very well known to the youngest Malfoy, leading straight to his mother's favorite parlor where she would spend hours with him as a child. Pushing the doors open, the two men were met with an image that would be burned into Draco's mind for years to come, surfacing every time he would ask himself just how he had gotten to where he was in the moment.
Lucius Malfoy, a generally composed man, prestigious throughout the wizarding community, stood towering over his wife, his face twisted with maliciousness, his voice booming throughout the room. "We made that deal Narcissa! Both you and I consented to his terms. You knew it would come, and now you just want to back out. He has risen! It is our duty, our promise, our word! Nothing you do will stop it, so stop your sniveling and accept the facts!" His open hand harshly struck her porcelain face, her head snapping to the side.
As Narcissa turned to look at her husband, the curtain of silvery blonde hair that had covered her face fell, exposing the brilliant red handprint stood out on her pale skin. Her eyes were narrowed, anger radiating from her form. Standing firm, she evenly spoke her defiance. "My son is not becoming one of you. I don't care what promises were made thirteen damn years ago, I don't care about Voldemort's claim on my son. He is our son and he will not be given over to a man toppled by a mere babe. He was born of our blood . . . he is our heir . . . not Voldemort's." Lucius's face hardened at her speech, his grey eyes narrowing with every word. Glaring, he revealed his wand, holding it tauntingly in front of her, an unspoken threat hanging in the room.
Draco merely stood there in shock. He had only seen his father strike his mother a few times in his life. It was generally when she was standing up for him. Yet, here, it was as if he were watching in slow motion. Lucius's face screwed up as his lips clearly spoke the words for one of his rather painful curses. Draco could immediately recognize Occidere Curse. [2] Much like its brother, the Crustacius curse, the Occidere was used for torture, however, it could only be held for a short amount of time, the pain so intense the victim would die easily.
Draco stood in horror, he knew very well what that curse was. Training for the dark arts had put him in the same position as his mother at that moment, the same steely grey eyes and wand staring him down. He had experienced the Occidere curse, just as he had with many other dark spells, in his studies. He knew the blinding white hot pain that the curse could and would cause his mother.
With every ounce of speed his lithe body contained, he threw himself in front of the shimmering beam, falling to the ground, writhing in agony. His voice remained silent as his body shuddered under the effects of the curse, never releasing the screams of agony that coursed through his body. Narcissa looked on his horror and shock as her beloved son was pained by a curse meant for her and her own impertinence. Severus watched as his godson experienced an insurmountable pain, his face set with a well trained scowl, but his mind running with ideas of how to help the boy he loved like his own. Lucius merely watched passively, allowing the boy to feel the curse's effects before terminating them.
"Insolent boy! Haven't I told you before not to meddle in my personal affairs." Growling, Lucius pulled his son from the floor, forcing him to stand on his weak shaking legs. Immediately, his grey eyes locked with the silvery orbs of his son, coldly glaring at the boy as he spoke. "You will stay out of things that do not concern you boy. "
Draco barely heard his words. Lost in his own world, Draco's body ached, his muscles screaming for relief that he knew would not come for quite some time. Usually, Draco was able to push past the pain and pay attention to his father, never displaying the inner turmoil that raged within him. But this time, something was slowly taking over. Anger at his father's treatment of his mother and rage at his father's words were slowly consuming him. Words of times past, events of long ago ran through his mind, his anger turning to pure rage, boiling within his blood, consuming him.
Draco's head snapped to the side forcefully against the power of his father's hand, Lucius's words permeating through the roar of anger that raged in his blood. "Look at me when I'm speaking to you . . . ungrateful brat!" Unable to contain himself any longer, Draco stared at his father, his silver eyes narrowing dangerously. A waver of silvery energy surrounded him, slowly expanding. Lucius barely managed to hide his shock as he witnessed his son become surrounded by silvery blue flames. Draco's face, twisted with rage, distorted with anger, sharpened as his emotions made their way to the surface. With a deafening scream of rage, the swirling energy consumed him, pushing out into the room, and with a flash of light, everything fell silent.
As Severus awoke, he found his body throbbing with pain. Slowly sitting up, he surveyed the room. The parlor they were previously in had been destroyed. The beautiful stained glass windows were now but gaping stone holes, all of the small glass and porcelain trinkets that had been strategically placed about the room lay in pieces. The furniture, hundreds of years old, lay as matchsticks against the charred Persian rugs. An unconscious Lucius was covered in debris, half hidden under a plank of wood. Narcissa lay unconscious as well, but safe. No debris was on or around her crumbled form. Severus could only believe that it was Draco's form that protected her from the fallout of the magical explosion. Draco, like his parents, was laying unconscious right in front of his mother. His face was ashen, his body stiff, almost as if he were dead.
The professor was in shock. He had known that Draco held a vast amount of magical energy, as well as the possibility of wandless magic. Yet, he had just watched his godson purge his magic from his body in an all out explosion towards his father. Severus was afraid. He was never a man to fear things easily; after all, he had betrayed Voldemort and played a spy for the light for years. It was not that he feared his godson, knowing that the boy would never harm those who did not harm him. The fear that Snape felt chilling his wizarding blood was for his godson.
Lucius had always told him of the power that his son possessed. Severus had always wondered just how Lucius knew it, if it were only speculation or fact. He had heard several claims that Draco was Voldemort's heir, but ignored those insinuations. He comforted himself in the thought that Draco would have told him if this were true. Lucius may have lost the trust that the two men once shared, but Draco's trust and faith in him were far beyond what he would ever have hoped or asked for from the boy.
Gathering his godson in his arms, Severus grasped the necklace he had worn since he had turned spy. The silver pendant was that of a phoenix, yet, the special property was that it was a Portkey. Though it was not made from the Malfoy line, but by Dumbledore, the small pendant held a core of Draco's blood. It had been Draco's own idea, hoping to ensure the safety of his godfather no matter the circumstance.
Arriving in Hogwarts, in the infirmary none the less, Severus made his way to the Headmaster's office. Face to face with the gargoyle, he quickly provided the correct password, Ice Mice, and proceeded into the wizard's chamber.
"Ah, Severus, how can I help you? The term is over you know." Dumbledore said, humor playing in his voice.
"If you will excuse me, Albus, we have a bit more to worry about than the end of the term." He said, nodding his head to the unconscious boy in his grasp.
"Oh dear, perhaps you should explain yourself Severus." The constant twinkle in the old headmaster's eyes slowly disappeared as he listened to the events that had occurred in Malfoy Manor as well as Severus's concerns of the boy's future. Pondering on what could be done, Dumbledore found very little that he could do. "What do you think should be done Severus? He is not like Harry; I can't merely take him from his father, nor place him in a safe house. We know that Lucius has all legal rights to his son."
A grim smile played on Snape's countenance as he spoke to the Headmaster. "Yes, he does. Nor would he stop until he had his son back. Draco is far too valuable to Lucius, as both his heir and his prodigy."
"Tell me Severus, you are rather close to the boy. I have watched him, he shows only the ideals that his father instilled into him. Though you may want to protect him, does he want to be protected?"
Severus's usually hardened face softened as he gazed down at the pale boy he held so tightly too. "Albus, there is much you do not know nor you could understand. You were a Gryffindor. This boy is a Slytherin. You may not see much of a difference, but I know him well. He was raised under ideals that have been force fed to him since birth. Expectations have been pounded into him as well. Slytherins are ambitious, willing to do what they need to survive and profit. You can not deny that everyone, even you, expect him to become a Death Eater and join ranks with his father. Hell, it is in his best interest to follow his father's footsteps. But there is a difference in believing in superiority and killing off the muggle and muggle born. He may be proud of his ancestry, but he does not wish to be a slave to anyone. He has far too much pride to kiss Voldemort's feet no matter the power he is promised. Lucius spent years trying to break him. To the world he is but a Malfoy, intent on following his father's dark footsteps. No one tries to see just what it is he believes, not even you Albus. The Slytherins are merely declared one way and then forgotten for anything else. But Draco has endured more than a child should, he is strong. I will not allow them to make him a puppet for their actions. He may not be Potter, but he deserves what protection we can give him."
"I see, but do you have a plan?" Dumbledore asked, his gaze resting heavily upon the boy who, in sleep, held such innocence. Gazing at the boy, he was faintly reminded of the weak child that he had declared an early grave for, only to be proven wrong. Letting Severus think, the headmaster allowed his mind to wander back ten years, when he met the Malfoy heir for the second time.
It was at one of the many ministry social gatherings, when times were thought to be much lighter, and the truth of Voldemort's survival was unknown. For that particular Yule holiday, ministry officials and certain guests gathered together in splendor. Dumbledore had been sitting beside the hearth, speaking to Cornelius Fudge when a small boy had run into him. As he looked down, his own sparkling blue eyes met with wide eyes of pure silver. The boy's silvery blonde hair had been in slight disarray, a warm pink tone flushed upon his cheeks.
Kneeling down, he faced the boy, asking the child's name, unable to recognize him. The child had given his an aristocratic smile before speaking, his voice displaying his pleasure at being spoken too. "Malfoy." He said, a childish smirk playing across his face. "Draco Malfoy." Dumbledore was unable to understand just how it was possible, only able to believe that Lucius had created another heir in place of the dead child he had known.
He was shaken from his thoughts as a pair of shining black boots reached him, a familiar cane tapping gently upon the hard flooring. Looking up, Dumbledore was met with the familiar face of Lucius Malfoy himself. The headmaster merely watched as the aristocratic adult kneeled down beside his son. "Draco, I thought I told you to wait for me." Gathering him into his arms, Lucius stood once more. Sneering at Dumbledore, he once again addressed his son. "Draco, this is Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster at Hogwarts.
Curiosity lit up within the silver eyes of the child at his father's words. "Where Uncle Sevy works?" Sticking out his hand, the child gazed at Headmaster with a new light within his eyes. "Pleased to meet you sir."
Dumbledore could merely stare at the child. Though he was merely a child, he held the stature of one much older. Before he could say anything more to the young Malfoy, Lucius announced that the two had to meet with a few other officials. As Lucius passed the aged Headmaster, he leaned in slightly, soft words flowing from his mouth into Dumbledore's ears. Words that would forever confuse him. 'You aren't the only one who understands the value of a dragon.'
He had puzzled over his words many times before, only finding himself reading it as Voldemort claiming Draco as a child. The meaning of Draco was the only link he found within Lucius's statement. Though, even then, the words just weren't clear in meaning. Even now, the words confused him. Dumbledore was shaken from his thoughts as Severus's silky voice permeated the silence of the room.
"Actually, I do. An . . . acquaintance . . . of mine happens to work at an exclusive school. Hardly anyone knows of it, only few have seen it. It specializes in wandless magic and advanced magical studies. Draco has been trained far ahead of any of your students here in the Dark Arts. He was also well trained in the Light, so that he could win in any case." Severus shot a rather smug look at Dumbledore's surprised one. "I only know of it because he works there. It is very selective, but I'm sure Draco can attend. They are the best to help him control his magical abilities, as well as protect him. It would also be a capable cover story; one Lucius would not have much of a problem with, though it may be harder to dissuade Lucius later in time. I've noticed that his abilities are rather uncontrolled at heightened emotional states, making him far more dangerous when he is angry. They are specialized with these sorts of things as well."
Nodding, Dumbledore bent over a piece of parchment, readily writing a letter to the Headmaster at the academy Severus spoke of. As Dumbledore did this, Severus bent over his charge. Silently, he brushed a lock of silky blonde hair from the boy's forehead. Pulling the youth closer to his body protectively, Severus muttered a prayer for the boy, knowing that there was a hard road ahead of him, harder than before.
As soon as Albus had signed his letter, Severus was readily awaiting his departure. With the letter in hand and a farewell to the Headmaster, Severus disappeared from the office, appearing once again, thousands of miles from England. Instead, he now stood by a roaring fire in Italy. Glancing up, Severus's dark eyes immediately met with a pair of glittering golden orbs.
"Welcome Severus . . ."
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END NOTES:
[1] Adductum: Stems from the Latin word, adduco, meaning to bring or to lead to a person place or condition. Basically, it's a locator spell, speaking the word Adductum and then the name or place, bringing about a ball of light to lead you to your requested destination.
[2] Occidere Curse: The description is given in the text. It is another torturous curse, however, it can not be held too long without death. The name derives from the Latin word occido, which means to strike down, beat to the ground, to kill, slay, to plague to death, torment. The spoken word to cast this spell is occido.