Title: Bad Faith
Author name: badfaith
Chapter: 4/?
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 Four
Not Always As It Seems
"Our guests will be arriving any minute now," Lucius told Draco. At that moment, several figures appeared in Deatheater drab, obviously apparating, in the study. "Ah, here they come." Lucius finished with a satisfied look of superiority on his face. Several of the figures that had begun to fill the room nodded acknowledgment Lucius's way. Draco's hands had begun to become damp with nervousness, although his face showed casual indifference. Soon, everyone had assembled, and a quiet hush filled the stifling air.
Suddenly a tall, lithe figure appeared, seemingly floating a few inches above the ground in the middle of the study. The figure glided towards Draco, and stopped in front of him. Reaching out a long, slender white hand, it cupped Draco's chin, and forced his face to tip up to face its' hood. Draco closed his eyes, fearful of what was to happen next.
"Are you afraid of me, Draco?" A high, but silky voice whispered from the darkness of the hood. Draco sucked in a startled gasp at the familiarity and intimacy in which the figure had said his name.
"Yes, Master." Draco replied instinctively.
The figure leaned closer, and Draco could smell a faintly sweet aroma of hot breath on his face.
"I'm not your Master, Draco," The figure whispered confidentially, and Draco could almost hear the amusement in its' words. "Not yet".
It happened so fast that Draco could hardly startle any reaction out of himself except for fainting. But what haunted him in his nightmares in the fitful sleep thereafter was a soothing voice whispering, "I expect great things from you, Draco."