A/N- Alright, I know I said this fic would be redone, but...yeah, it won't. Here's a short little thing a wrote along time ago, chapter nine, I guess. I can't remember who made that quote. So, this is the last WIFY(does anyone else get as much of a kick out of the name abbreviated as I do?) simply because I don't have time, the plot is now incredibly messed up, I suck at keeping everyone in character(ex.the Draco in the early chapters...*cringes*)
Where I Find You Eight- Flesh Perishes
Dedicated to everyone who reviewed this story
I am the family face
Flesh perishes as I live on
Nothing is free.
Even losing yourself.
I know this, because I've seen it. Dozens of men, whom the entire wizarding world regard as gods, doing a complete about-face. Grovelling like, like bloody beggars' brats.
Of course, this is very very private. Should this get out, it would be the end of everything they have worked so hard for.
Death Eaters are definatly not spineless gits who plead for forgiveness with every breath exhaled from their miserable lungs.
I didn't always know this.
I was like everyone else, well, most everyone.
Most of us weren't brought up like the rest of the wizarding world.
Innosence was derogitary. We did not wait for Hogwarts to do Magic. Knockturn Alley was just another place you went to buy things. Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore were fools. Voldemort was the savior.
The Death Eaters son's and daughters. Should Voldemort actually obtain immortality, they are the ones who carry on his *honorable* crusade. And sentence their children, grand children and so forth to do the same.
I won't.
*
Small boy.
Figeting a little, as young children do. His large, untarnished eyes followed his father.
Father. Never Daddy.
The room was a large study. Books covering the walls, a large dark desk sitting in one side of the room. The ceiling was incredibly high, with a large glittering chandelier lighting the room.
He sat in a large chair, his father pacing back and forth deep in concentration.
The boy bit his lip, feigning innocence very well. Inside, his heart beat heavily, the subdued way it does when one has been betrayed.
When one's trust is so broken, you see people for what the really are.
The Father stopped pacing, piercing eyes settling on the dissappointly wiry form of his heir.
" Draco, what would you say if I told you I could give you the world?"
Grey eyes blinked once, but otherwise the boy gave off no other clues to his emotions.
Finally, in an accent that wasn't quite clear;
" I'd say you were a very bad man."
*
Harry was having the tiniest bit of trouble stopping Ron. Of course, his friend was in a crazed dash, running towards the Hogwarts castle. Harry *was* fast, but was definatly no match for Ron's longer legs, and well, super-power adrenilene rush.
Impatiently, Ron banged on the thick entrance door. Harry caught up as the doors were dragged open, and Ron very nearly knocked over an extremely startled-looking Professor McGonagall. Harry muttered an apoligy for both of them as he hurried in after Ron. Ron practically flew down the corridors, five years absence from the school hadn't affected Ron's memory at all. He ran like he was still a student there. Well, a student criminally late for class.
This time, Ron didn't bother to knock as he flung the door open wide.
And Harry stopped right behind him.
*
" And besides, Hermione *so* wanted Weasley to love her again." With this, Malfoy got up and headed towards the door, assuming Neville had run out of questions.
" Malfoy, were....were you faking it all? Kiss....kissing Hermione....and asking to be just friends....? Do....do you really not care about her....at all?"
If Draco was facing him, Neville would've seen the flash of emotion that surged across Draco's face. And he would've known exactly what emotion it was.
But as Draco turned, his face was set, and he answered the last question of Neville's. Purposely avoiding the first two.
" I care enough about her to not really teach her a Dark Spell." He smiled, and walked away.
Neville stared. Malfoy hadn't? No, what? Wait, that's not like him at all? He would definatly...? Doesn't care? Stop.
" The problem, Longbottom, is that far too many people are making asses out of themselves. Yes, I teased all of you dreadfully in school, but that gives you no rights to me. Just because you all sort of knew me at school, everyone is trying to figure out what I'm doing. I didn't stop being when you didn't see me, I did things you don't know about, and you don't know me at all."
With that, the door burst open.
*
" A bad man? I am certainly not a bad man."
The father sneered, and the boy made no effort to retort. Finally, the father smiled, though not quite kindly.
" I am meerly a follower of the next great man. We are revolutionaries. Though we have had hard times, our way of thinking will one day be embraced by the entire world."
The boy lowered his eyes.
" What?" The father hissed, grabbing the boy's bangs and jerking his head up. " Do you not think this will happen?"
" Mother won't ever embrace this idea. Neither will I."
" Your mother....*your mother*" The man laughed. " Your mother loves me, unconditionally. She will follow me where ever I choose to go. And you, whether you love me or not, will join us too. You are my heir, Draco. You will do what I tell you."
Draco muttered something under his breath.
Lucius smirked. " Don't want to be my heir, do you?" Swiftly, the father grabbed a sharp letter opener from his desk. Snakes adorned the handle, another reminder of the family's position in the wizarding world.
The boy jerked and fought as his arm was grabbed. His father held it steady. Turning in upside down, so the white underarm was exposed. The boy drew quick, shuddering breaths, shutting his eyes and turning his face away.
" Shut your eyes if you will, but the pain will be just as sharp." With that, he carved a smooth circle around the spot where Draco would get his dark mark. " This here, your blood, binds you. Fight it if you wish, but you will become like me. There is no walking away, you are a Malfoy, for all your life." He pressed his thumb into the center of the circle. " You will become his servant. And you will do it faithfully."
" Fine! " The boy spoke, despair edging into his voice. " But mother doesn't love you unconditionally, whatever you may think. I've seen her! You break her heart! She won't follow you, she won't become evil for you! I've seen her cry, you broke her heart..."
Lucius snarled, twisting the boy's arms painfully. " She does not cry because of me. It is you that makes her sad, because you are a weak, stupid little boy. She loves you, but you still are sick, you ungrateful fool. And if she does not follow me to the Dark Lord, she will follow you. You will be the one to ruin her...You make her sad, Draco."
Draco let out a broken gasp, and the door was flung open. Narcissa Malfoy stood there, beautiful face stunned, and pose elegantly shocked.
"Lucius! What do you zink you're doing?" she said, half screaming. Quickly she rushed and picked up her son, facing Lucius. " What is wrong wiz you? 'Ow dare you 'urt 'im!" she asked, cradling the small boy.
Lucius just looked at her calmly and did not answer.
But the gaze that passed between them spoke louder than any words, clearly stating things that the tongue could not even hope to vaguely express.
Narcissa glared at him and started to walk away.
The boy raised his head from his mother's sholder, looking at his father.
" I am leaving on business tomorrow. I expect you to speak better english when I get back, Draco."
*
A/N : Lucius is a bad man. Narcissa is french, or something. Draco is complex. Ron is an ass. Harry sucks at keeping everything under control. Hermione is confused. Neville is lame.
As for the "Ron or Draco" question, yes, Hermione would've chosen Draco. There you have it, the last Where, I might change some stuff (might = probably won't) Yeah, I'm really sorry about this, but...it's not a big loss to anyone, is it?
Where I Find You Eight- Flesh Perishes
Dedicated to everyone who reviewed this story
I am the family face
Flesh perishes as I live on
Nothing is free.
Even losing yourself.
I know this, because I've seen it. Dozens of men, whom the entire wizarding world regard as gods, doing a complete about-face. Grovelling like, like bloody beggars' brats.
Of course, this is very very private. Should this get out, it would be the end of everything they have worked so hard for.
Death Eaters are definatly not spineless gits who plead for forgiveness with every breath exhaled from their miserable lungs.
I didn't always know this.
I was like everyone else, well, most everyone.
Most of us weren't brought up like the rest of the wizarding world.
Innosence was derogitary. We did not wait for Hogwarts to do Magic. Knockturn Alley was just another place you went to buy things. Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore were fools. Voldemort was the savior.
The Death Eaters son's and daughters. Should Voldemort actually obtain immortality, they are the ones who carry on his *honorable* crusade. And sentence their children, grand children and so forth to do the same.
I won't.
*
Small boy.
Figeting a little, as young children do. His large, untarnished eyes followed his father.
Father. Never Daddy.
The room was a large study. Books covering the walls, a large dark desk sitting in one side of the room. The ceiling was incredibly high, with a large glittering chandelier lighting the room.
He sat in a large chair, his father pacing back and forth deep in concentration.
The boy bit his lip, feigning innocence very well. Inside, his heart beat heavily, the subdued way it does when one has been betrayed.
When one's trust is so broken, you see people for what the really are.
The Father stopped pacing, piercing eyes settling on the dissappointly wiry form of his heir.
" Draco, what would you say if I told you I could give you the world?"
Grey eyes blinked once, but otherwise the boy gave off no other clues to his emotions.
Finally, in an accent that wasn't quite clear;
" I'd say you were a very bad man."
*
Harry was having the tiniest bit of trouble stopping Ron. Of course, his friend was in a crazed dash, running towards the Hogwarts castle. Harry *was* fast, but was definatly no match for Ron's longer legs, and well, super-power adrenilene rush.
Impatiently, Ron banged on the thick entrance door. Harry caught up as the doors were dragged open, and Ron very nearly knocked over an extremely startled-looking Professor McGonagall. Harry muttered an apoligy for both of them as he hurried in after Ron. Ron practically flew down the corridors, five years absence from the school hadn't affected Ron's memory at all. He ran like he was still a student there. Well, a student criminally late for class.
This time, Ron didn't bother to knock as he flung the door open wide.
And Harry stopped right behind him.
*
" And besides, Hermione *so* wanted Weasley to love her again." With this, Malfoy got up and headed towards the door, assuming Neville had run out of questions.
" Malfoy, were....were you faking it all? Kiss....kissing Hermione....and asking to be just friends....? Do....do you really not care about her....at all?"
If Draco was facing him, Neville would've seen the flash of emotion that surged across Draco's face. And he would've known exactly what emotion it was.
But as Draco turned, his face was set, and he answered the last question of Neville's. Purposely avoiding the first two.
" I care enough about her to not really teach her a Dark Spell." He smiled, and walked away.
Neville stared. Malfoy hadn't? No, what? Wait, that's not like him at all? He would definatly...? Doesn't care? Stop.
" The problem, Longbottom, is that far too many people are making asses out of themselves. Yes, I teased all of you dreadfully in school, but that gives you no rights to me. Just because you all sort of knew me at school, everyone is trying to figure out what I'm doing. I didn't stop being when you didn't see me, I did things you don't know about, and you don't know me at all."
With that, the door burst open.
*
" A bad man? I am certainly not a bad man."
The father sneered, and the boy made no effort to retort. Finally, the father smiled, though not quite kindly.
" I am meerly a follower of the next great man. We are revolutionaries. Though we have had hard times, our way of thinking will one day be embraced by the entire world."
The boy lowered his eyes.
" What?" The father hissed, grabbing the boy's bangs and jerking his head up. " Do you not think this will happen?"
" Mother won't ever embrace this idea. Neither will I."
" Your mother....*your mother*" The man laughed. " Your mother loves me, unconditionally. She will follow me where ever I choose to go. And you, whether you love me or not, will join us too. You are my heir, Draco. You will do what I tell you."
Draco muttered something under his breath.
Lucius smirked. " Don't want to be my heir, do you?" Swiftly, the father grabbed a sharp letter opener from his desk. Snakes adorned the handle, another reminder of the family's position in the wizarding world.
The boy jerked and fought as his arm was grabbed. His father held it steady. Turning in upside down, so the white underarm was exposed. The boy drew quick, shuddering breaths, shutting his eyes and turning his face away.
" Shut your eyes if you will, but the pain will be just as sharp." With that, he carved a smooth circle around the spot where Draco would get his dark mark. " This here, your blood, binds you. Fight it if you wish, but you will become like me. There is no walking away, you are a Malfoy, for all your life." He pressed his thumb into the center of the circle. " You will become his servant. And you will do it faithfully."
" Fine! " The boy spoke, despair edging into his voice. " But mother doesn't love you unconditionally, whatever you may think. I've seen her! You break her heart! She won't follow you, she won't become evil for you! I've seen her cry, you broke her heart..."
Lucius snarled, twisting the boy's arms painfully. " She does not cry because of me. It is you that makes her sad, because you are a weak, stupid little boy. She loves you, but you still are sick, you ungrateful fool. And if she does not follow me to the Dark Lord, she will follow you. You will be the one to ruin her...You make her sad, Draco."
Draco let out a broken gasp, and the door was flung open. Narcissa Malfoy stood there, beautiful face stunned, and pose elegantly shocked.
"Lucius! What do you zink you're doing?" she said, half screaming. Quickly she rushed and picked up her son, facing Lucius. " What is wrong wiz you? 'Ow dare you 'urt 'im!" she asked, cradling the small boy.
Lucius just looked at her calmly and did not answer.
But the gaze that passed between them spoke louder than any words, clearly stating things that the tongue could not even hope to vaguely express.
Narcissa glared at him and started to walk away.
The boy raised his head from his mother's sholder, looking at his father.
" I am leaving on business tomorrow. I expect you to speak better english when I get back, Draco."
*
A/N : Lucius is a bad man. Narcissa is french, or something. Draco is complex. Ron is an ass. Harry sucks at keeping everything under control. Hermione is confused. Neville is lame.
As for the "Ron or Draco" question, yes, Hermione would've chosen Draco. There you have it, the last Where, I might change some stuff (might = probably won't) Yeah, I'm really sorry about this, but...it's not a big loss to anyone, is it?