Title: Bad Faith
Author name: badfaith
Chapter: 2/?
Author email: anna@tomfelton.zzn.com
Author website: http://www.undisgusied.net and http://nightfall.undisguised.net
Category: Angst
Sub Category: Drama
Rating: R
Summary: Draco Malfoy learned a few things he didn't want to know, and as a result he is plunged into a war. Will Harry Potter be able to save him before it's too late? Or will Harry learn things that might condemn Draco to death?
DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. The plot and title are mine, though!
Warning: This story contains slash, which is a boy-boy relationship. If that's not your cup o' tea, I suggested you find some that is, or you'll miss your teatime.
Chapter Two
Silken Wounds
As soon as Draco reached his room, he found the butler, Bernard, waiting patiently for his arrival. Master Malfoy, I assume you will be wanting a bath and clean clothes appropriate for your activities tonight?" the butler asked primly, his nose twitching slightly at the smell. Draco was sure he reeked, so he nodded slightly and walked into the adjoining bathroom, finding a hot bath, and a towel already ready and waiting. He turned to the patiently waiting butler.
"This will do. You may go." Draco waved the butler away with a flick of his hand.
"As you wish, Master Malfoy. I shall bring your clothes up later." Bernard said politely, and bowed out of the room, closing the doors in front of him. Draco sighed and painfully began peeling off the soiled and shredded rags he was wearing, and walked over to the tub. Slipping carefully down into the warm water, savoring every little tiny jolt of stock when he felt the hot water touch his dry skin, he sighed in contentment and relief, the warm water soothing and relaxing his tight muscles. After a while of pure bliss, when Draco was in danger of nodding off to sleep and drowning himself, he realized that he should start actually taking a bath soon. Frowning with the thought that he had to move from the state that he had grown comfortable in, he slowly eased himself up and started to wash off the oily dirt that had decided to make his unwashed body a home for a short while.
But not for long, Draco thought.
Feeling refreshed, clean, and all-around more healthy looking, Draco walked out of the bathroom, hot steam billowing out behind him from the bathroom into the cooler room. Draco, walking around with only a hunter green towel edged with silver thread designs (go figure) slung carelessly around his slender hips, and threatening to fall off, realized that Bernard had said that he would be back with Draco's evening attire. Completely without anything to do, Draco sat down in his plush green velvet armchair and waited until his robes arrived.
He didn't have to wait long. Within a few short minutes a sharp rap sounded on Draco's door.
"Come in." Draco invited, knowing fully well that it was Bernard, the butler. Bernard came in with a long black cloak draped over his right arm.
"I have brought your robe, Master Malfoy. Where shall I put it?" the butler asked.
"I'll take it. And hurry up next time. You kept me waiting. Father shall know about this." Draco said disdainfully as he got up to take the black robes.
"As you wish, Master Malfoy," And the butler left, a carefully hidden fear in his eyes.
Scoffing at the idiocy of the inept butler, Draco unfolded the robe in his arms. The robe billowed down, falling in a rustle of silk and chiffon. He gasped. In front of him was probably the most expensive robe he had ever seen. The outside was made of ebony black chiffon, and two silver links were there to fasten it together. Silver stitching, and elaborate designs with silver and silver-green thread framed the slit down the front. The inside of the robe was silver silk, the softest he had ever felt, and that was saying something, as his father only got the softest. But that was not the most shocking part. On the left side on the front of the robe was an insignia, the sign of the Dark Lord. Now Draco recognized that the robe he held was the official Leader Deatheater's robe, and the guests that he was meeting in the study tonight were not normal guests, but Deatheaters. And included in that role of guests was the Dark Lord himself, there to finally give Draco the Dark Mark, and invite him into his followers.
Draco swallowed hard.