In the deepest darkness
A/N This is the prologue of a (quite long) fic that I'm working on. I didn't really want to write it, but it kept bouncing around my brain, and Draco (the one who lives in my head) was screaming at me to write about him! Oh well, please let me know what you think!
Prologue
~*~*~
Slender hands flew over the soft page, the smudged black charcoal providing a striking contrast to the perfect white of the sketchbook. It seemed right, somehow, not to taint her with colours. Colours could be described as 'pretty' or 'cute.' And she was neither of these. She was beautiful.
He added a few last strokes, then set the book down, satisfied. He flicked gently through the pages, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Every page was graced with her beauty, and he felt it must be the luckiest sketchbook in the world. He put his charcoal back into a well-worn box and slid it under his bed, pushing it to the very back. He then placed the sketchbook under his mattress, holding it carefully, as though it was delicate, as though it may fall apart if the lightest breath of wind threatened to flutter its pages.
Not without a backwards look, he walked out of the dormitory. He covered up his expression of deep concentration with one of indifference, as though he'd done nothing more than change from his Quidditch robes, which indeed he had said he was going to do. No-one would know. No-one would ever know.
~*~*~
Harry sneaked up the Slytherin stairs, careful not to make any noise. He saw an older boy come hurrying down them, robes askew. He flattened himself against the wall, holding his breath so as to make himself as thin as possible. He breathed a sigh of relief and carried on up the stairs, though still wondering how Adrian Pucey would have reacted if he had run into something invisible.
At the very top of the spiral stairs, he reached the door he was looking for. A heavy looking door, probably made out of Oak, with a sign on it that read 'Fifth Years.'
Harry's grin widened. He pushed the door open with crossed fingers. He let out a sigh of relief when he found the room empty.
He was disappointed though, it seemed almost identical to the Gryffindor's Dormitories, except that the blankets of every bed were a thick, emerald green, as were the curtains. And, indeed, most of the room.
He walked to the middle of the room, staring shrewdly at each bed, and the trunk at the end of it. Which one was Malfoy's? He glanced at the bed closest the door, and noticed the trunk. It was in perfect condition, made of thick dragon hide, with silver fastenings. A label hanging off the handle read, in perfect upright, narrow writing, '
'Bingo',' thought Harry, his jade eyes glinting.
~*~*~
It wasn't exactly like he was snooping, Harry reasoned with himself, he was just looking for anything that Ron could use to tease Malfoy with.
'A letter from his mother, a love poem from Goyle, a pair of pink tights and a tutu, anything!' Ron's voice echoed in his ears. Their rivalry seemed to have reached new heights this year, to the point where they weren't safe walking down the same corridor. Ron had wanted to accompany him, eager to look through Malfoy's personal belongings, but their latest, erm, escapade, had left him stuck in the Hospital Wing for the night. He had asked Madam Pomfry if he could go any sooner, but she had replied that he was welcome to leave right then, as long as he didn't mind walking around with leeks sprouting out of his ears.
So it was that Harry found himself perched, very uncomfortable, on the cold stone floor of the Slytherin dormitory, rummaging around in Malfoy's trunk. His hand came into contact with a box, and he pulled it out, excitement building inside him. It was quickly stifled however, and a feeling of disgust was present instead. He threw the box aside, swallowing hard as he tried not to throw up.
"Well, this answers the eternal 'boxers or briefs' question, doesn't it?" he muttered to himself, glancing over at the box which read, 'Gladrags Wizarding Wear, quality boxer shorts for quality wizards.'
Harry sat back on his heels with a sigh. Nothing. He threw Malfoy's belongings haphazardly into his trunk, wondering where else he might keep something important. He stretched his memory back to the few muggle films the Dursleys had allowed him to see.
'Under his pillow,' Harry remembered with a start. He reached under the soft silk pillow, that he was sure didn't belong to the school, and rummaged around underneath it. Again, nothing. He was beginning to think Malfoy didn't have any deep dark secrets. He was just pulling away when he remembered something. 'Under the mattress,'
He rummaged underneath Malfoy's mattress, pushing his hand to the very back. His fingers brushed gently against something. His stomach jumped with excitement. He got a firmer hold on it and pulled.
Harry looked down at the object in his hand, a very confused expression in his eyes. He was holding a simple muggle sketchbook, which looked very out of place in a wizarding school. Why did Malfoy, who despised everything to do with Muggles, have a Muggle sketchbook? And more to the point, why did Malfoy have a sketchbook?
Intrigued, Harry flicked it open to the first page. He gasped in astonishment. On the page, careful and precise, was a charcoal sketch of a girl. A girl he knew very well. He turned to the next page. The same. He flicked through the whole book, his hands shaking as he admired the pictures. They were wonderful, on every page the girl was in a different position, leaning against a doorframe outside the Charms classroom, walking down the corridor with a group of friends, cheering excitedly at a quidditch match. Without a thought as to what Malfoy would say if his sketchbook was missing, Harry pocketed it. He pushed Malfoy's trunk back to where it belonged, straightened up the bed and fled from the room, barely remembering to pull the cloak around his shoulders.
He tiptoed towards the exit of the Common Room and waited beside what he knew was the door. He pushed it open quietly, and, seeing the corridor outside was empty, fled out of the dungeons, eager to get back to his dormitory.
~*~*~
The next day, Ron had been discharged from the Hospital Wing and he had raced back to Gryffindor Tower, eager to hear what Harry had found out. Harry was in a corner of the Common Room, deeply involved in a game of Chess with Hermione. Ginny was perched on a chair nearby, apparently torn about who to cheer for. Ron pulled up a chair of his own and sat down, greeting them all cheerily.
'Well' he asked Harry, who had a look of deep concentration on his face. 'What did you find out in Malfoy's Dormitory?'
Hermione's head snapped up.
'You looked in Malfoy's Dormitory? That's really mean. And you could have lost loads of points!'
'Well he didn't, did he?' Ron told her smugly. He looked back at Harry and said in an undertone, 'You didn't, right?'
Satisfied by Harry's muttered, 'No,' he went on, 'So what did you find? Anything good?'
Harry sat back from the Chessboard, an unreadable expression in his eyes.
'No, nothing good. I'm going upstairs, I have a headache. Ron, d'you want to take over here?' he asked, standing up and motioning toward the game. Hermione looked panicked at the mention of Ron taking over, and Ginny immediately jumped to her side, the two whispering and pointing at various pieces.
'Sure you're OK Harry?' Hermione asked, not tearing her eyes away from the game. He nodded, striding towards the stairs, his mind already with the abandoned sketchbook, locked inside his trunk.
'Wait!' Ron yelled, glaring at the girls as though daring them to try and cheat when his back was turned. 'You must have found something good!'
Harry, half-way up the stairs, turned his head and yelled back, 'He brings his own Silk pillows!'
Ron turned away with a snort, walking back towards the board. He sat down with a smirk, which vanished as he looked down at his pieces, all of which seemed to have moved since he last saw them.
'My turn,' Hermione told him. She moved a piece towards one of Rons with a grin. 'Checkmate!' She announced, giving Ginny a high five.
'That's not fair!' Ron whined, 'You cheated!'
The girls turned back to him and smiled innocently.
'What us?' Ginny asked, in mock sincerity.
'I want a rematch!' Ron told Hermione, ignoring his little sister. 'No cheating.'
'Sorry Ron, but I'm really tired. I think I'm just going to go to bed.'
Ron glared as she walked over to the stairs. He sat back in his chair, fuming.
'She cheated. I could have beat her.' A look of panic crossed his face. 'What if she didn't though?'
He turned back to the Chessboard in horror. 'What if I'm not the best at Chess anymore?' He turned back to the few Gryffindors scattered around the room.
'Someone play with me?' They all ignored him, most heading towards the stairs. 'Anyone?' Come on, I need to prove that I'm still the undisputed champion of Chess!'
He saw Seamus appear at the bottom of the stairs.
'Seamus, play chess with me!'
Seamus looked around startled. 'No thanks Ron, I'm just off to bed,' he said, turning back around.
'You just came down!' Ron insisted. Seamus looked at him guiltily.
'No, I just came to, er, check on the…' he scanned the room, 'chairs,' he finished lamely.
'You came to check on the chairs.' Ron repeated suspiciously, narrowing his eyes.
'Yup,' Seamus said, inching backwards, 'You know, just make sure they're all still, er, chairs.'
Ron's eyes narrowed. Abandoning all pretence, Seamus turned around and ran up to the dormitory.
'No!' Ron yelled, 'Come back down here and play chess with me you…little…er…Irish…um…guy!' he finished, darting up the stairs after Seamus.
A/N There you go! Will we ever find out the identity of the girl on the sketchbook? Will Ron ever be the Undisputed champion of Chess? Will Seamus get away in time? Are the um..chairs all still…um…chairs? Find out next chapter, where Draco makes his debut. Yup, he'll be there, in all his silvery haired, grey eyed glory *melts into a puddle on the floor*
Oh, and I'm undecided as to who Draco has been drawing. It's probably going to be Hermione or Ginny, so please let me know which you'd rather have. It could be someone else too, as long as it's a girl Harry knows quite well. Think about that!
~Snidget