~*KATIE'S NOTES: YAY YAY YAY a thousand times YAY! Sabrina, my other ingenious half and I are going to have so much fun with this. It is our first official collab operation and publication and it is going to be absolutely fabulous. The way this is going to work is that I will write a chapter and then she will and then I will and then she will and so on. I hope you enjoy, and yes this is going to be total Yaoi, but tasteful. There will be other adult themes in here too, including some more self destructive things. But I'm not giving anything away right now ^^. Do enjoy. –Katie *~
Chapter One: The Foundation of Mania
It was so cold in the dungeon. I remember my first night there. The dank seemingly wet stone walls in the Slytherin common room with its stiff black leather furniture and dark hard wood tables and chests didn't seem at all welcoming. You'd never think that someone would be able to call it home. But as a newly dubbed Slytherin, I learned that you had to adapt, to sacrifice. My first night was cold, not only my environment, but in my heart, and I was scared. I cried my self to sleep. Not that I was weak. No, I was a Malfoy. Malfoy's are the strongest pure bloods left in the wizard world. We were the elite. At least that's what father had beaten into me for the last sixteen years of my life. Now the Slytherin common room is the only place that I can safely call home.
To be perfectly honest I don't know why I cried, but it didn't rightly matter. I never told anyone and never let anyone see any of my weakness anyway. One of the lessons from dear old dad. Maybe it was the fact that I hadn't succeeded in befriending Harry Potter like my father had instructed. I was afraid of what he'd say; more importantly what he'd do. But once I explained that Potter had been sorted into Gryffindor he shrugged off my failure for fodder, saying that there really wasn't anything I could do to change the sorting hat's decision; despite how close it had been to sorting Potter into Slytherin. But that's what he said then; things changed later.
In my third year, Potter was declared the heir of Slytherin. He could speak parsel tongue, and did so in front of my very eyes. That's when I first realized that my hobby of causing him distress was more then a mere hobby. It was an obsession. He was more then a wizard, more then a man. He had so much power that swirled about him and everything he did like a sinister and uncontainable storm. He was a god. He consumed my very soul, and I wanted him to be mine. I wanted to conquer him.
That was when I started experimenting. I was known for my bed hopping with the females of the Slytherin house, but Slytherins weren't really known for their strict heterosexuality. I practiced with whom ever would bed with me, thinking of him every time. But no one compared to the feeling I got when I was around him. That's why I did what I did best when I was near him, be cruel; my defense mechanism. I wanted to break and bend him; despite the fact that I knew that was impossible.
It was after my fourth year that I really messed up. I said the worst thing that I could have ever said to him. I made a snide comment about Digory and paid severely for it. I lay on the floor staring at the Hogwarts Express' ceiling after everyone was gone. Potter would never be mine. That cold comprehension rested heavily on my heart all summer. I had irrational outbursts of violence, breaking old family relics that had been in the family since before Jesus. Of course I paid for it; but at this point I welcomed the torture curse from my father. It made me forget for a little while. It punished me for what I had done.
I came back the next year with a new energy. This would be the year I took him; by willingness or by force. I wasn't just consumed. By wanting to overpower him he had dominated me. He had broken me. I was worse then ever; crueler then ever. He wasn't going to slip through my fingers again! But he did. That woman, that evil woman took him away from me; made him bleed. I wanted to kill her, torture her slowly and make her suffer before she ceased to exist. But I did what was best in the situation; kept my friends close, and my enemies closer. Another one of daddy's lessons. At that point she was my enemy, the only person standing between me and my conquest.
Then Potter did the best thing he could have ever done for me. He took away the only thing linking me to the pointless hate that I harbored; my father. I was free, and planned on taking advantage of all the liberties that came with having no one to oppress you. I spent the summer dreaming of the way I'd spend my sixth year. I was at my physical prime, and would use that tool to tempt Potter, Harry, into submission. I practiced his name in the deep lonely hours of the night. I thought of the expression on his face when I'd call him by his real name for the first time. I could almost taste him…
Coming back to Hogwarts for my sixth year was better then any other train arrival I had ever experienced thus far. He was so beautiful; his glowing jade eyes no longer being hidden behind thick unflattering glasses. He had used his fortune wisely for once and indulged in the advanced optical department of the wizarding abilities. He was still just as shinning to me, but he was being gawked at by the female population at Hogwarts, his close friend Granger not an exception. That was a problem that would have to be eliminated. Besides that, the only real down side was that professor Remus Lupin had returned to Hogwarts as the defense teacher, but that was something that I could cope with.
I watched Harry under hooded lids at the sorting ceremony, savoring and committing to memory every action he performed. There was something missing this year. I noticed half way through the feast what it was. The sparkle, the zest for life in Harry's blindingly striking eyes was gone. And then I remembered; Sirius. Father had told me, long before he had been carted off to Azkaban that is, that Harry was somehow related to him. He had died, been murdered rather. I wanted to comfort Harry. But I wanted to hurt him at the same time; to scream at him, to tell him to get over it. But that wasn't me; that was the little bit of my father that was left in me. Another lesson of my father's; people that are weak get taken advantage of. I feared that for Harry.
I went back to the ever familiar environment of the Slytherin dorms and went directly to bed, afraid that if I socialized I would forget how Harry wrapped his lips around his cup while he drank. I couldn't sleep however. It was so cold in the dungeon, as if this was my first night relived.
~*KATIE'S NOTES: So what do you think? Too much, too little? Alright enough of me, I'm passing the torch to Sabrina. Your turn Sabrina darling ^^*~