I know I know, it's been a while. But I've finished Draco's
Sorting and I am extremely proud of it. Now, be warned. I wrote this very early in the
morning so it's kinda weird.
I have to put an official warning that this one is rated R
because there's a torture scene.
If you thought the others were sad, this one is worse. I feel bad for the pain I'm putting
Draco through but I'm one of those people who believe if you're bad, you must have a
really good reason. I think this story is a really good reason.
Chapters to my other story are being written but I don't know when it will be finished. I
don't know when the next one of these will be done either. Who should I do next?
I made up Annie, Laura and Daphne, but the rest belongs to J. K. Rowling. Damn her.
Draco's surname really does mean 'bad faith' and 'il orb degli incubi' means 'the orb of
nightmares'.
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need _______________________________________________ It's hard to be confident when you're scared out of your mind. Oh sure, it's easy to fake it when everyone is watching and the adrenaline from performing pumps through your veins, but trying to maintain it without anyone to feed off... now that was difficult. There weren't that many blond students attending Hogwarts. Blonde seemed to be a rather difficult color to have as hair. So when he stepped forward, he knew there was no doubt that everyone knew exactly who he was. Draco Malfoy. The Dragon of Bad Faith. And dragons had to be tough, no matter what. They had a reputation to uphold. No one ever heard of a nice dragon, or a gentle one. No, they were fierce and protective, strong and could be dangerous. When you added the Malfoy name to a dragon, you were bound to get something strong. McGonagall had called his name, waiting for him to come forward. Her look was bordering on intimidating but you could only be intimidated if you let the other person do it. And Draco Malfoy had been raised not to let any one intimidate. He couldn't have gotten anymore attitude into his walk or it would have exploded into little bits all over the students. First Years weren't supposed to be confident and proud. They were supposed to be scared and cowering, scuttling forward and rushing to hide amongst the other black sea of robes. The trials of suspected Death-Eaters were available for public access so most everyone knew about his father's accusation. Draco knew the trial front and back. His father had made him watch it most of the time before he went to school. Said it was an excellent opportunity to work on his lying skills. Only someone extremely good could lie like he had and Draco's mother had faked an alibi. It was the best set of lies ever told. On his way to the stool, Draco caught a glimpse of Severus Snape, the Potions Master. Father had told him that if he needed anything, if he wanted something or he got into trouble, anything at all, to go to Snape. Snape also had the Dark Mark burning on his arm, embedded forever. His father spoke very well of Snape, saying the man was a genius for hiding in the school during the Master's revival, that when the Master was back, Snape could strike at Dumbledore easily. Looking at the man, Draco had little doubt about his status as a Death-Eater. Snape should had been the model that they all strove to be. Yep, sauntering up to the stool with three-quarters of the school almost a hundred percent positive that Lucius Malfoy's son would have to be Slytherin, Draco couldn't have oozed more confidence. But that was on the outside. Like before, it's hard to be confident when you're scared out of your mind. His father was the notorious Lucius Malfoy and had already secured his son a place as the school evil. It didn't feel like a great thing to be. Draco was starting to wonder how it would be different if he wasn't the infamous Lucius Malfoy's son. If he was normal. Would he be scared out of his mind still? Probably, but he wouldn't have been even more afraid to show it. There was no comfort from anyone. All the teachers who had been friendly before knew this student. They knew what to expect and they knew the House that would befall him. So it was cold and alone to sit on the stool and wait for a teacher that would only know his name to place some shabby thing atop his head. He wanted to be frightened. He wanted his father to have said that he would be the best no matter what House he landed in. He wanted the teacher standing before him to give a warm smile because she could see the fear and wanted to comfort him. He wanted to be Snape's favorite student because he earned it and not because his father was a fellow evil. Somehow, in the end, it didn't matter what he wanted. Just let it be Slytherin. Slytherin. I know you make quick decisions and I'll help. Slytherin. Slytherin. Slytherin. Slytherin just hurry up and put me in the House already! He was screaming in his head by the time the hat slumped over his eyes. "Slytherin eh? It's usually the House least wanted and here you are screaming for it. What makes you different from all those others?" The voice sounded clear, but if it talked to all the students, then it had to be in his head. Just put me in there. Let's get it over with. Slytherin. Slytherin! It was taking too long. It was known that he was going to be evil and evil should be recognized at first glance. "Draco Malfoy. I seem to remember a Malfoy. Yes, yes, here it is. Lucius Malfoy. Ooh, nasty images in that head. You must be his offspring. There's the memory, he's your father." Fear welled up in his body and he wanted to rip the hat off. Stop reminiscing and decide! Slytherin! The hat chuckled, smooth and low so that Draco tensed up. "Here's an image I found of dear father. You see, whenever someone comes into this hat, I know them. I never forget them and they leave a piece of themselves with me. Do you want to see what your father has done? Do you know why you are automatically doomed to be evil? Do you, little dragon?" Draco didn't move, but he shook his head, chanting Slytherin in his mind for all he was worth. Perhaps, he could drown out the hat. Suddenly, he wasn't looking at black anymore. He wasn't in the interior of a hat. There was a draft and he was in a barely lit dungeon. Looking closer, Draco could see a blond man kneeling in front of a huddled figure. The figure was shackled to the wall. There was a sphere on the floor next to the blond, and it looked like a clear ball filled with silver and black paint swirling so that it was opaque one moment with a silver flash the next. "Father?" His voice was startling loud and Draco hunched back, but the blond, whom Draco was now convinced was his father, had grabbed the other's face and pushed him standing against the wall. "Frank, do you know how long it takes to break someone using the Cruciatus Curse?" The question had to be rhetorical because the other man was so badly beaten that his whole face was swollen to the point where no orifices could open. Watching all that blood and shivering, Draco hoped a dying hope that his father hadn't done it. I'm convinced, I know, let me go back! "It took us five weeks to break one Auror. We do not have five weeks to wait Frank." Draco squirmed against whatever was keeping him against the wall watching, but that only ended up bringing him closer, so that he could tell the man, Frank, had curling brown hair and that his father hadn't shaved in at least three days. Draco tried to remain absolutely still. If he moved any closer, he'd be able to see the telltale bruises forming on his father's fists. "You haven't seen anything yet Draco." It was that blasted hat. Hogwarts felt like the dream now, as if it had never existed. All that was real was the two men before him and the cold floor beneath his feet. And that smell. "I have found a present Frank. A present for you. I normally only buy presents for my wife but my Master has asked me to make an exception." The orb was in the blond man's hands as he held it in front of the other's face, not letting it touch anything save his hands. Frank seemed to know more than Draco for he muttered something and the blond smiled, a horrible smile that could never, ever be wiped from his mind. That smile promised something beyond death, beyond simple wonderful death. "Yes Frank. Il orb degli incubi. If you know the name then you must know the purpose of it." Draco could feel dread coiling in his stomach. He didn't know what the sphere did, but it would be bad. He knew it. The blond man pulled out a wand and muttered a simple spell to make the sphere levitate, then, he placed one hand on the sphere and set the wand down his shirt, so that it touched his skin, and the other hand on Frank's head of curls. There were words uttered so softly that Draco leaned forward to hear them. The world swirled, like a plug pulled in a drain and Draco felt himself being sucked towards that vortex that had formed by Frank and his father. The hat didn't listen to his screams. Slytherin! I want to be in Slytherin! Slytherin! SLYTHERIN! PUT ME IN SLYTHERIN! PLEASE! PUT ME THERE! SLYTHERIN! They had to be in Frank's head now, because there was a mirror and the face looked like Frank's, only several beatings earlier. "I love my wife Frank, do you love yours? You do, and that little child growing up in your image." The voice echoed around his brain, like there was a sound system hooked up in various places in his mind. The image of Frank in the mirror shattered. It was a desert, with a wall in the middle. There was a woman chained up. LET ME GO BACK! SLYTHERIN! I WANT TO BE IN SLYTHERIN! LET ME GO YOU STUPID HAT! SLYTHERIN! PLEASE SLYTHERIN! The woman was pretty in a weird way. She was plump without being fat and had straight shimmering blonde hair the color of snow flowing around her hips. If she had just gotten out of the sea like Venus she wouldn't have looked any prettier. The only thing wrong was the shackles holding her spread eagle on the wall. And the fact that she wasn't wearing any clothes. The woman had really pretty eyes, the color of orchids with a drop of iris. His hands wouldn't work. They wouldn't come up to cover his eyes and his eyelids had disappeared, making it impossible to close them or to blink. He wanted to blink it all away. The sky was the grey before a storm. "You think she's pretty because she is Frank. A very pretty woman." That same voice told him to get a book from the library, asked if he wanted tea from a house-elf. Want a scone? Sure. Want to kill a woman? Sure. Frank recovered enough that he stumbled towards his wife. "Leave her alone!" I DON'T WANT TO WATCH! TAKE ME BACK! SLYTHERIN YOU DAMN HAT! SLYTHERIN! "You could handle most anything happening to you, couldn't you Frank? But not to her, not to Annie." There appeared a long knife, ten inches it seemed with an ivory handle. Frank began to cry out. The woman, whose name was probably Annie, had tears leaking down her face. "Daddy no! Don't hurt them Daddy! Let them go! Stop Daddy! DADDY!" That voice didn't echo; it only stopped once the words left his mouth. The knife rested on the cheek of Annie, the ivory hilt the same color as her skin, only a bit more yellow. With a cackle, the blade slid down and released a thin sheet of flesh. There was no blood. "NO!" Wonder who said that. The knife raised again, this time towards the belly and curved inwards so it'd get a deeper slice. There was a long wordless scream. Lightning shot through the sky and when it touched the ground, it stayed there. Another scream, another lightning bolt, another sheet of flesh. SLYTHERIN! "My name is Franklin Nimus Longbottom. I am an Auror in the division of..." Frank continued rambling, spilling everything from his name to the name of his three-headed goldfish that he snuck into Hogwarts during his Second Year. The vortex spun in reverse. There was a blond man with an orb and a knife with an ivory hilt standing in front of another man, curled into a tight ball on the floor. There was a faint smell in the air, something rank and shivering, something cold and dying. The whole place reeked of fear. The blond motioned to four standing on the opposite corner of the room. One with straw-colored hair took the knife from the other blond. "Use the Cruciatus Curse to get the words aloud. He's broken." A woman with thick shining hair stepped next to the other one. "The woman's broken. Rosier just finished with her." The man nodded and turned away. Draco got a full frontal view of him. On his face, was a full smile. SLYTHERIN! "Now do you see? Now do you see little dragon?" It was the hat again. But something had changed. Draco didn't feel that fear in the pit of his stomach anymore. He didn't even think about the other Houses now. There wasn't anything floating around except that need. That need to do something, anything, just as long as something was done. There was no fear. Draco slowly nodded, looking down at his hands. Funny, your hands should get bloody when you've killed someone. When you've ruined three lives. There should be something on your hands. "You should have put me in Slytherin when I first told you." He understood now. The hat made him understand. They knew. His father knew, he knew now. Everything made sense. The hat chuckled. "Good little dragon. SLYTHERIN!" The blackness was pulled off his head and he blinked at the sudden light. How long had that taken? Of course, that didn't really matter. There were whispers, hisses, boos. "Did you see that Laura? The hat barely touched his head!" Hmm, not very long then, not long at all. "Well you know what they say Daphne: you just know evil." Evil huh? Was that what that feeling was? Strange, it felt more like need. Finis Creepy ne? Hope you liked! Review and tell me who I should do next. I know I'm definitely doing the MWPP peeps, so them next? Argh! Review or write to angelfire2996@yahoo.com |
