The Serpent Dragon's Soliloquy
L es la razon yo aliento..que luego yo hago si yo serro lo con alguien nuevo?
He's the reason I breath..what will I do if I see him with someone new?
Suppaenitet
(Regret)
The thick, scented envelope slid easily enough through the small slit in the cramped mailbox, exuding a small sigh of relief from the weather-beaten house elf. His torn sackcloth shirt hung loosely from his body with only one sleeve to hold it up, musty, toeless boots covered his feet. His shoulders slumped as he walked away from the towering structure, his mind set only at the impending doom that lay before him.
Jared. He was named after his master, he who was once a kind and gentle soul had been corrupted by the desire for immortality. Eternal power, eternal prestige, eternal wealth and eternal life. The ultimate goal of the greedy heart.
He started up the gloomy, torch-lit stairs of the manor, sighing in agitation. The failure of one is the failure of the whole household, just as the failure of the heart is the failure of the whole body. The words ringed in his ears, making his head spin. Sure, he was a house elf, but he was wise beyond his years. His initial name wasn't Wisdom for nothing, after all.
He reached the top of the stone steps, and now stood in front of a heavy jeweled door. He raised his hand and touched the center of the seal to let Jared know he had a visitor.
The door swung open, revealing a plush red carpet and several pillars of diamond with gold engravings. The floor was made out of sapphire, the throne, of ivory. The house elf prostrated himself on the floor, waiting for his master to give orders.
"Have you delivered my letter to the Owlery?" He heard Jared's commanding voice say. For a moment, he trembled slightly in fear. This man had fallen many a great nations, caused three of the kingdoms' present destruction and led an army of twenty thousand soldiers. It was impossible to believe he was only sixteen.
"Yes, my lord." The house elf said, not lifting himself from the ground. Jared stood up. "Will you stop that nonsense and come closer? I can't hear you."
The house elf scampered towards the throne, and then bowed deeply to the young boy. He had short ebony hair and dark green eyes, a muscular build and an overwhelming personality.
He was Diandra's infamous twin.
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"I thought I'd do you a favor and meet you here before you experience your first ride on the train." He was saying. Diandra wasn't really listening, her eyes were nowhere near him. She was looking for someone else, and even she didn't know she was looking for that certain someone.
"I'm not going on the train." She said, briefly looking at him. He lifted an eyebrow in reply. "You're not?"
"No."
Her eyes scanned the crowded area. A streak of jet-black hair caught her eye, making her turn. She looked only for a second at him, laughing and smiling at his companions. She then faced back to the person beside her. He was smirking at her, with an I-told-you-so look on his face. She rolled her eyes and her gaze turned back to him. Harry Potter.
"Would you like me to take the train, Malfoy?" She watched Harry cross the barrier easily, watched the two people beside him wait and then go after him. Draco lifted his head.
"Sure."
She didn't bother smiling at him, didn't even bother to acknowledge him. Yet Draco wanted her, loved her, and he didn't know if she would ever be able to love him back.
He offered his hand to her and she took it, but she didn't look at him. He sighed as he pushed his cart in front of him. Her belongings were already at Hogwarts, along with all her servants and her best friend. He opened the door to his usual compartment and found that three people were already inside.
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She could feel him looking into her eyes, could fell him probing into her. She was the one who could read minds, yet she felt it was Harry who could see through her. Through other people. She whirled around.
"Let's go."
Draco, too, turned to leave, but Harry stood up. "Wait."
She didn't look back at him. She just kept walking. "Diandra." He pulled out a hand to her, clasped her shoulder, and turned her to face him. She looked at him coolly. "What is it?" She paused. Harry looked at her. He dared her to say his name, dared her to show she still had any feelings for him.
"Unhand me, Potter."
His hold lost its grip, and he let his hand slide back to his body. He shook his head at her disbelievingly, then went back into his compartment. Draco followed Diandra into the compartment far from Harry's.
They sat down across each other, Draco settling to stare out the window, Diandra pulling out the castle's monthly reports to work on them. He could hear the rustle of papers and the small sighs as she signed, and read, and signed.
"Need help?" He asked. For a moment she looked at him, all her maturity gone, with tired eyes. Draco saw her as the sixteen year old she was, the child she was trying not to be because of her position. He felt the burden on her shoulders through those eyes, the longing for a family, her desire to break free from the chains which held her down. And then her face changed back, she laughed
"Thanks anyway, but they'd just bore you to death." She said, looking back at the papers. "Besides, what would you know about all this stuff? You still have a father."
She was right. She still had a father. A worthless one, but a father nonetheless. He pulled a few sheets from her and read. She made no objections, just stared at him and then leaned back in her chair and relaxed.
"Well, if you insist, you can read all that and sign them yourself, I'll tell them you're my proxy." She smiled. "Just give them back when they start to bore you."
The reports were about construction of houses, churches, and other structures for various towns of her kingdom. There were food orders, salaries and other things needed to run the castle.
"They're not boring." He said, producing a quill from his pocket and scribbling away furiously on the papers.
"What are you doing?" She asked curiously, and the next thing he knew she was sitting beside him. He ignored the butterflies flying around his stomach and the sudden urge to kiss her.
"I'm sketching the new town." He replied, drawing a couple of market stalls along a road. "Market production will rise here, and then don't put the stalls near the river because they're bound to pollute the waters, and then you should have a village square here, and you should have a town that's for tourists only, so your castle will be safe and market production will increase, and---"
"Why do you know all this stuff?" Diandra cut in. For a moment Draco just stared at her. He tried to think about it himself, why did he know all this stuff.
"I…I don't know." He answered truthfully. She laughed.
"Yeah, right."
"No, really… I don't know."
She looked at him, into his eyes. And suddenly Draco forgot all about the train, the papers, about himself. There was only her, only this girl who triggered so many emotions inside him.
"I believe you." She whispered softly.
He didn't want to blink, because she might disappear. "I really don't know." He heard himself say.
"No, I meant…those dreams of yours. The ones about…you know."
Oh. Them. The ones about him. And her.
He tried to shake his head, but he couldn't move. She laughed at him again, and then hugged him. Draco's whole body went rigid. "Stop being so stiff."
"Stop provoking me, then." He said, wrapping an arm around her.
"Thanks for everything." She whispered. "For always being there."
He nodded. "I'm always here."
I'm bound to you.
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"Who was she, Harry?" Hermione asked once again.
"No one in particular." Came the reply, and then he looked away.
"Tell me." She pleaded. Who was the girl? Why did she make him like this? Feel like this?
Answer me.
"She…uh…"
Ron was silent. He knew all about it, but he didn't want to butt in. He knew that Hermione loved Harry, but Harry loved someone else, and it hurt him to see that Harry could not let go of the girl who had dumped in, get over his life, then love Hermione.
He tried to, Hermione became his girlfriend, but he still could not forget.
Love is a painful thing which leaves scars that never disappear.
Hermione looked at Harry. And then she stood up to leave.
"Hermione." Ron stood up, too, but Harry didn't move.
"I'm sorry, Harry, I love you." She whispered, before exiting the compartment. Harry didn't even blink.
Ron stared at him disbelievingly. "Harry POTTER!"
This snapped Harry back to reality, and he acknowledged Ron with a grim sigh. "Snap out of it, man." Ron said.
Harry didn't say anything.
What's wrong with him? Ron thought, irritated.
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Hermione stared outside the window, up at the starry sky, blinking back her hot tears. He'd rejected her, once again. He was once hers, once all hers. But now…
She remembered the girl with Draco, remembered how much she affected Harry, remembered how much she stirred so much inside him. She let her tears fall, let the cold wet tears slide silently down her cheeks.
"Harry..."
You are what's keeping me alive… you're the reason I breath.
What am I to do if I see you with someone new?
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