Authors note: And now ladies and gentlemen(If there is any) I give you Chapter 2! :D
Summary: See Prologue for full summary
Warnings: Violence, bad language and BoyXBoy romance
Disclaimer: Sadly I don't own Harry Potter, that is the privilege of J.K Rowling and The Warner Brothers. I am simply using the characters as my marionettes to preform my Drarry desires (And hopefully yours too ;) )
Chapter 2
Feranight and his men walked towards the carriage that was waiting for them, four magnificent black Pegasus's were stomping and snorting in eagerness to take flight. Their large feathered wings were spread wide, the soft inky plumage rustling with the breeze. Their crimson eyes gleamed in the darkness, and those that were foolish enough to approach them would see the sharp canines as they nickered and snapped at each other. Feranight advanced on them, seemingly uncaring about the dangers these beasts posed, and stroked one of the creatures' strong flank, whispering lovingly to them. He reached into his pouch and produced a large strip of meat, blood dripping down his hand as he offered the juicy piece of flesh to the stallion. It neighed in delight as it sank its sharp incisors into the treat before it. A sickening squelch could be heard as the beast started to rip the lump apart, gorging itself on the bleeding flesh. The other black beasts stomped their giant hooves, demanding the attention one of their brethren was receiving.
"Sir, are you sure about leaving it there, if they were to discover… ?" The voice stilled as long, thin fingers wrapped around the owners neck, smearing bloody streaks on the vulnerable skin as it held the man's pulsing gullet. "Do you honestly think I would leave it in such a vulnerable state, without the necessary precautions? It will not be discovered until I wish to reveal it."
The other man whimpered as the hand unconsciously tightened around his throat. "The Prostiansileus will force that healer to place its mind in a state of paralysis; they will all be too occupied in saving the subject's life, that they would not be able to detect anything else. Yes, it will all go as I predicted..." Dark eyes glimmered in the night sky as their gaze fell upon the splendor of Hogwarts, the castle coated with small lights that shown within its walls like stars in the distant night sky. "Try as you might to escape, darkness will always find a way to snuff out a light…" The steeds stamped their hooves, pulling back their long ears as the sound of a crack echoed in the darkness. Feranight looked down at the slumped figure before him, eyes emotionless, head tilted to the side. "Now, now don't be that way; if you fall asleep now, you would miss the begining of this wondrous play"
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Pain! Tearing within me… Breaking what was left of me, destroying all that I used to be. Leaving me empty and so very, very cold.
The liquid flowing in my veins have long since been tainted, scorching my very being. I shiver in agony as my body spasms. I remember voices, silent whispers and suddenly my body cringed. Those harsh whispers that made my muscles tense were moving closer. I couldn't move, even as my mind screamed at me to escape.
RUN...RUNrunrunrunrun ! Through my pixelated vision figures moved, causing my hart to beat faster than before; pumping more filthy blood through already abused veins like liquid flames. My icy skin caging this inferno within me, my sweat cools and turns to icicles as it touches my frosty skin. Hands hold me down as something is shoved down my throat. Instinctively my throat constricts, refusing to let the unknown substance pass. I start to sputter as my lungs' need of air excels my instincts need to protect myself from an unidentified substance, yet my throat refuses to relent its protective state. I feel myself suffocating before some strange force soothes my throat open slowly, letting the cool fluid flow down into the organic furnace my body had become.
A warm hand caresses the chilly skin upon my forehead, sparking a paradox of emotions. I remembered those big, coarse hands. A voice, cold yet certain, reached my ears, a voice I recognize, yet whose face cannot be placed in my chaotic mind. "Shuuuu" It murmurs too me. "It's alright little Dragon. Stay calm… The remedy's effects will soon begin."
I can feel my body relaxing, the fires within slowly dying, leaving my insides painfully raw, but not unbearable like before. I soon lost consciousness as my exhausted mind collapsed without consent and once again the darkness descended.
Professor Snape watched as Draco fell unconscious, his body still shivering and muscles spasming, but luckily he would live. It was a close call, if it hadn't been for his and madam Pomfrey's swift work, excellent skills and determination, the boy would have been lost. Snape grimaced at the thought. He glanced at his godson's thin frame; he could make out the sharp bones of his skeleton, his pale skin covering it like a stretched linen sheet. His arms were heavily bruised, looking as if a hundred sharp needles had pierced every open space available on the sensitive flesh on the inside of his arm.
Where had the boy been? He hadn't seen him since the end of the war. It had been thought that he and his mother had fled to France before the young 'Ex-Death Eaters' trial, but that had all been a lie to please the Prophet and curious populace of the Wizarding World. The truth was that the Malfoy Heir had disappeared without a trace and the only reason the Potion's Professor knew this, was because of a distraught Narcissa pleading for his help. Even then they could find no answers; he had simply been spirited away.
He rubbed his temples as a migraine started to plague his intellectual yet muddled mind. Something was out of place. There was much more to this story than it appeared. He had no choice but to wait for his dragon to wake, to ask all these questions that have irritated and pestered him all these months… 'What were a few more hours?' he thought bitterly.
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Harry and his friends sat in the Great Hall, still frozen in shock even after the unexpected intruders had left. For reasons unknown to him, the raven haired boy felt unnerved by Sir Feranight. The way he had looked at the young Malfoy with such relish and delight had sent shivers down the Gryffindor's spine. He sensed that his friends had the same thoughts as they all sighed in relief when the tall man finally left. Lessons had been cancelled for the day. (Even though it was the very first day) The students started exiting the Great Hall, leaving only the small group of Gryffindor's and Luna. They watched as Dumbledore read through the Scroll of the Ministry of Magic that contained all the details to Draco Malfoy's case.
"Professor?" Harry asked hesitantly, not being able to stand the silence any longer. Dumbledore eyed the boy, no, young man before him. He had hoped that Hogwarts would be able to have peace this year.
"Do you and your friends not wish to take an opportunity like this to enjoy another day off?" He asked, already knowing that they were not going to leave without an explanation. He sometimes cursed their Gryffindor determination, as well as Harry's unyielding inquisitiveness. No wonder the boy had to face so many near death experiences. He watched as Harry simply looked at his friends in a silent question, smiling as they nodded in approval. He faced Dumbledore with a grin, shrugging his shoulders.
"Ah yes, I see that you and your friends still have that curious habit of knowingly jumping into trouble." The old man smiled at the young wizards and witches before him. The war had been hard on them, even more so than on most. Yet they could openly smile and laugh, especially because they had known hardship. They have learnt to live life to the fullest, for it could end in an instant. Lessons that usually take decades to understand, they had mastered in a few short years.
Dumbledore had known the instant the young Malfoy was brought to them that this year was not going to be a peaceful one, for he had brought many new mysteries with him. Hogwarts itself seemed to have grown colder at the young Ex-Death Eater's arrival. The Castle was displeased.
"It seems that I would have to once again ask for your assistance? But only if you agree will I answer your questions." The old wizard watched them with regretful eyes.
"Of course, Professor!" Harry announced without a second thought. He had no clue why but seeing his once arch rival so lifeless and broken had scared him. He had not seen the boy since the end of the war, after he had spoken at Narcissas trail. Plus it sparked an excitement and keenness that made his heart race. He had to help out; he wouldn't have been able to stay away even if he wanted to, he thought, smiling at himself. The rest followed Harry's lead and agreed.
"Alright then, follow me."
Harry, Hermione, Ron, Neville, Luna, Seamus and Dean were seated in Dumbledore's office. They had agreed that it was the only place they could talk in absolute secrecy. The room was silent as they waited for the old man to begin. Dumbledore stroked Fawkes' brilliant crimson and golden plumage, before he began.
"Nobody, excluding myself, Severus and Narcissa Malfoy, knows this, but five months ago Draco Malfoy vanished from Malfoy Manor itself before he was able to attend his own Death Eater trial. We know not how, if he himself left or if others were involved, but according to Narcissa, it is unlikely by choice."
"Professor, why so?" Hermione asked. "How can we know for certain that it was done against his will?" Dumbledore eyed the group, wondering if he should share some of the Malfoy's Households secrets. He watched as the group before him waited in anticipation. If there was any chance of the Malfoy heir to get through this year he would need all the help he could get, that was what made Dumbledore concede.
"Severus is not going to be pleased that I am sharing this information with you all, but The Malfoy Manor itself is in a state of distress. No one can enter for it has locked itself down." They stared at the man in confusion. "The Ministry had tried to enter the Old Ancestral home of young mister Malfoy countless of times with no luck."
"Sorry Professor, but what does that have to do with Malfoy's disappearance?" Harry asked uncertain.
"Patience, my boy I was getting to that. You see, in days of old it had been a pure blood tradition that the heir and future head of house be bonded by blood to their ancestral home. After their 17th birthday, they were officially legal wizards and could thus undergo the ritual that bonded their very magical core to their homes. It is an extinct tradition; the Malfoy's are probably the only pure blooded family that still follows this tradition."
"Why would they bind themselves to their homes?" Seamus asked. And to everyone's surprise Ron was the one to answer his question.
"I've only heard stories 'bout this from my mum and dad, but it is believed that old buildings have strong magic. They absorb the natural magic around them, as well as the magic from the wizards and witches that live within them. The older the building, the stronger is its magic. Probably 'cuz it had all that time to gather it." Ron blushed as everyone stared in awe and Hermione had that look in her eye that meant she was going to furiously grill him on the subject and then later probably get a book on it.
"But the problem was that these buildings started to act on their own, almost as if they were living things and that is why Pure Blooded families bonded with their ancestral homes, to control it. Later on it just became a thing of pride, a competition to see who's got the most powerful homes." Dumbledore nodded with agreement, smiling proudly at the now beet red Ron, who glanced uncomfortably at the awe-struck Hermione.
"These buildings were quite temperamental. If they liked their owners, they would serve them with no trouble at all, but if not… It could get quite wearisome." He added.
"So, basically Draco Malfoy, who is bonded with his ancestral home, had been taken against his will and that is why the building had gone in a state of panic."
"That is right Miss Granger. Its master is no longer there to control it nor to calm it. There aren't many ancient buildings that wield such power anymore nor are there any wizards that can do the bonding ritual." Dumbledore continued.
"Why?" Neville asked. "There must be plenty strong and powerful wizards out there that could do it, like you Professor Dumbledore or Harry here." Neville shot Harry a small apologetic grin for placing him in the center of attention.
Dumbledore shook his head and with a big sigh answered. "The reason is because not only is it an extremely complex and byzantine ritual, not to mention dangerous, but because it is not necessarily concentrated on magical power but on the type of magical core of the wielder itself. It also holds strong links with the very being of the wizard, their nerves, blood, bone and mind. Sadly neither Professor Snape nor I know anything more about it. All we do know is that young Draco is the only one, after millennia, that was able to do it."
The group stared at Dumbledore in astonishment, the information they just received seemed to have left their minds boggled. Harry wanted to disagree, for his old school rivalry habits wanted him to argue, wanting to refuse the fact that Malfoy could be anything but a spoilt, arrogant and pointy git. He didn't want to admire the blond yet his mind betrayed him. Harry's curiosity flared with vengeance, getting him all giddy with excitement. He wanted to know how the Prince of Slytherin did it. How did it feel to be bonded with a magical building?
"One thing though professor" Ron looked up to meet the Headmasters eyes with a look of utter animosity in his own. "If Malfoy had been able to do something so great, wouldn't he and his family have ran to the prophet to brag about how great the esteemed Malfoy family was?" Everybody turned to Dumbledore, not being able to protest, for that was in fact what they would have normally done if it had been something else.
"As I said before, only Professor Snape and I know about it, why do think that is? Even I, am afraid, don't know the true reason why. It seems there is much we don't know about young Malfoy…"
Before anybody could question further, they were interrupted. Entering the office with billowing robes behind him was Professor Snape. He glared at the group with cold dark eyes, chilling them to the bone. The potions professor was not pleased.
"You wanted to see me?" The low monotone voice of the Slytherin Head of House seemed to echo off the walls in the previously cosy room. "Ah, yes. I wanted to know how Mr Malfoy is fairing."
Snape scowled once again, glaring at the group of students, as if trying to propel them to some unpleasant and desolate realm with some form of wand less magic. In an instant the expression on the man's usually emotionless face turned to dread as realization hit him. He turned towards the headmaster, for once not caring that his Slytherin mask of indifference splintered a bit to show how irked he was.
"You told them?" His voice was merely a whisper, yet the room was silenced in fear.
Oh yes, Severus Snape, was tremendously displeased...
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