Disclaimer:
I own none of the characters. All I won is the plot. Nothing more nothing less)
It
was dark downstairs. The only light came from the moon that was spilling
through the gap in the curtains.
He
walked to the door and opened it, then walked through the archway onto the
front lawn. He looked up at the moon. It was full, a bright yellow colour.
He
sat on the cold cement of the garden path and waited.
* * * *
* *
He
was still there when the sun came up. What he had been waiting for hadn't come
and he was getting worried. He stood up and went back upstairs to his bedroom.
He sat there on his bed, a puzzled look on his sleepy face. He shrugged, the
got under the covers and went back to sleep.
He
dreamed while he was sleeping, a strange dream.
* * * *
* *
He
was standing in the attic, at one of the windows. It was raining and he was
crying, silent tears running down his face. He turned, looked at the old
furniture in the room and glared at it, as though it had done something to him.
He turned back to the window. There was a dark shape out there, but he couldn't
see what it was. It looked almost like a dog, but it was way to big.... The
dark shape loomed out of the darkness.
The
boy screamed and stumbled backwards. He ran from the room, his tears forgotten.
He
hurtled down the stairs and crashed into a solid shape at the bottom of them.
It was a person.
"Don't
be afraid," the person said. "It's not going to hurt you. It has already done its
job..." The face of the person leered into the light that came from the window
at the foot of the stairs.
He
screamed again and ran backwards. That face...
* * * *
* *
Draco
sat bolt upright, panting. His face felt wet. He reached up and touched his
cheek. He had been crying.
'That's
weird,' He thought. 'I don't cry...'
Then
he remembered that face. That room. He flopped back down on the bed, confused.
"What
the hell was that about anyway?" He asked himself. "Why in the heck was my..."
His
mother came into the room. "Draco, are you okay? I heard you talking to
yourself."
"Yes,
mother, I'm fine."
"Well
okay, if you say so." She smiled at him and left the room.
He
sneered at her back. She always babied
him. Like he was a two year old or something.
"For
gods sake, I'm 15." He said to the door. He kicked off the covers on his bed
and sat up.
His
father hadn't come home last night. He'd been waiting for him outside. He
wanted to know why he'd been so worried before he left. He knew something had
happened.
He
heard a scream from downstairs.
"What
now?" He asked the ceiling and walked down the stairs to the lounge room.
His
mother was standing there, a note in her hand. There was an owl on the windowsill,
blinking at her. It took one look at Draco's face and flew off.
"What
is it mother?" He asked, sweetly. After all she was the one who gave him all
the those thins...
"It's
your father Draco... he..." She burst into tears and slid down onto the couch.
Her hands shook.
He
reached for the note and pulled it from her tight grasp. 'I wonder what's got
her in such a mess. Probably her aunt died and left her a ton of money....
hey... that means I get a ton of money.' A gleam came over his gray eyes. He smiled and unfolded the piece of
parchment.
* * * *
* *
It
read:
Dear Mrs Malfoy. (Mrs Malfoy, he thought to
himself. How formal do you want to get?)
Your husband, Lucius, was taken
last night. (Taken?
Where?)
We are very sorry about your
loss. Avery and Macnair will arrive at your manor shortly to discuss matters
with you.
* * * *
* *
"LOSS?!"
He screeched. "My father is DEAD?"
His
mother nodded. She reached out to give him a hug, but he wrenched away from
her. "Don't hug me, mother. I'm NOT a
baby. I can look after myself you know."
He
turned away and walked back to his room.
He
couldn't believe his father was dead.
This was so weird. He was meant to be indestructible or something.
"Lucius
Malfoy dead?" He asked himself.
Then
he remembered the dream. That dog, the Grim. It was telling him....
"God
Draco, get a grip. You aren't a
nutter like Professor Trelawney. It was just a dream."
He
sat on the bed.
"Hey."
He said aloud, a grin spreading across his face.
It
wasn't like his father loved him or anything. Hell, he was the most unloving
man Draco had ever met. Not that Draco wanted him to love him, but still.
But
if his father was dead, that meant no more pushing around. No more having to be
the best at everything. No more stupid people liking only for what his father
was.
His
father was dead. And that meant only one thing to Draco.
"MONEY."
He said to the mirror. "I'll be the richest kid at school! God, this is gonna
be GREAT. I'll be able to show that stupid git Potter and his poor friend Weasley a thing or two. Stupid poor
piece of..."
He
jumped up. There was some serious planning to do.
(A/N
Little bastard isn't he?)
Please
review. This is my first ever fanfic.
