Author's notes: I don't own Draco Malfoy. I don't own Harry Potter or
anything of the sort, so don't think about saying I didn't say so.
Don't hate me because I made poor Peroxide Boy evil. Embrace my cough syrup
enduced creepy fic!
I wrote this fic one day while grazing plot bunnies (kudos to MorganMerlyn) and this is the product of my excessive cough syrup guzzling and 'All the things she said' by TaTu on repeat.
It turned out NOTHING like I planned, I just let my fingers type and I came up with this. Its rather dark, which is very different for me. I might try it over again later, who knows. meh.
R&R appreciated.
----
I'm in serious shit, I feel totally lost
If I'm asking for help it's only because
Being with you has opened my eyes
Could I ever believe such a perfect surprise? All the things she said
All the things she said
Running through my head
All the things she said
All the things she said
Running through my head
This is not enough
Tatu
*
"Draco Thomas Thatcher you get your skinny little arse down here this instant! And get Kylie too!"
His mother's voice boomed through the peach coloured halls of their two- floor home. Surprisingly no matter how cluttered it was, Margaret Thatcher's voice could always reach him wherever he might be in the house. He half suspected she spoke to him through the air vents and often considered responding through them, just to see what happened.
Stepping up slowly to his younger sister's room, sixteen-year old Draco questioned what she could possibly be doing; sitting in her bedroom with the door closed and music blaring. 'And on second thought', he told himself. 'Maybe that isn't something I really wanted to be thinking about.' He rapped on the door loudly.
A head of long red curls poked out from a crack in the door and a pair of accusing light blue eyes glared up at him. Although Draco himself was rather short, he took pride in knowing he wasn't the shorter than his younger sister, even if he was only a few months older than her. Their height (or lack there of) and pale skin seemed to be the only things they had in common.
While Draco had the palest shade of blond hair ('Peroxide Boy' she had called him when they were younger.) Kylie's hair was an almost orangey red. Pale freckles scattered from one cheek to the other, while Draco's face was completely blemish free. Their eyes were completely different as well; his were a shadowy shade of cobalt while hers were a lighter shade of cerulean, which now watched him surprised but clearly an attempt to remain cool. "What do you want?"
"Mum called us," He replied blatantly. She eyed him suspiciously then nodding quickly she closed her door behind her and added. "I didn't even know you were back,"
"Of course you didn't, you were over Emma's when my train came in,"
"Ah," There was an awkward silence as they made their way down the hall. They seemed to have more and more of those now a days. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, his eyes falling on the bouncy sheen of her curls.
"So," Said Kylie, sounding oddly distracted. "How was this school year? Obviously you didn't learn how to make yourself taller yet,"
"Didn't you get my owls?" It came our sharper than intended but as usual, she seemed completely unaffected. Typical, just bloody typical of her.' Draco thought silently as they made their way down the stairs. 'I could've been killed and she wouldn't even know,'
"You expect me to be able to get anything from that mad bird?" She let out a small laugh and smile. "It's evil I tell you,"
Evil.
Draco paused, stopping behind her a few steps with his hand on the railing, utterly dazed. Evil. She didn't even know what evil was. What it truly was. Poor innocent Kylie, no matter how hard she might try to appear cool, she didn't have the slightest clue of what evil really was.
But he did.
Draco Thatcher had spent his entire life trying to prove he was better than his sister. Striving to be older, wiser, and taller. Of the latter was always up for argument in the Thatcher household. Their rivalries were always somewhat of a joke, but there had been times he had tried desperately to play the part of the older brother. Always had to be one step ahead of her. And somewhere in their life together he must have jumped to far ahead and now all there was between them was.
Awkwardness.
Somewhere in the back of his mind Draco knew where they had lost each other along the way. And he had recently come to terms where that time was exactly. It was that one day, little over five years ago when he had received a letter through the post from "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry".
When they were younger, no one would have ever guessed the quiet, outsider blond boy with the funny name was the older brother of cute, outgoing Kylie. If it wasn't for the fact they did everything together, Draco may have even forgotten. Although she would never admit it, he knew he was his only friend she really ever trusted. They would often spend hours talking with each other about everything that happened at school. They shared everything.
And that one simple piece of paper had changed both of their lives dramatically. It had opened doors Draco never thought imaginable, and had slammed shut on Kylie.
But he had attended Hogwarts despite her pleas, and leaving his family behind he entered into a world where magic was commonly used. A world of charms, potions and dark wizards. Draco soon learnt about Harry Potter, the boy who survived the attack of the world's most dark wizard ever.
It was like something out of a fairytale. The most powerful wicked wizard attacks, leaving the house in shambles and disappearing into the night never to be seen again. Leaving this little baby boy with only a lightning shaped scar. A spell that should have been his end, had in fact been his beginning.
Draco had tried to talk to Harry on the train on the way to the school in their first year but, some over bearing girl named Hermoine was monopolizing all of Harry's time and Draco had only the courage to walk by. He silently wished Harry would pick him out of the bunch to be his friend, his best friend even. One who would he could talk with for hours about all of the things he was to afraid to rub in Kylie's face. He never wanted to hurt his sister, but he just couldn't talk with her about a world that thought of her merely as a "muggle."
But all hopes of being Harry's friend were dashed when Draco was put into a different house. The Sorting Hat had told him with his 'thirst to prove himself' he would do perfectly in Slytherin in spite of how much he wished to be in Gryffindor. Did it matter his thirst to prove himself was to Harry? Every fibre of his being wanted to be in that damned house, so why couldn't that old piece of leather just do him the one pleasure of putting him where he wanted to be?
The years passed and slowly, the more he learnt about Harry Potter. The Dark Lord tried to steal a magical stone of eternal life in their first year, but Harry beat him off and saved the world from the torture and pain Lord Voldemort had promised. Another year his teenage soul possessed a girl and released a giant snake. And then in their fourth year something terrible happened. The Dark Lord returned to power.
It had been little over a year since that had happened and still Potter remained brave and steadfast. Voldemort seemed to have hidden in the shadows once more. People were happy to put it out of their minds, many truthfully believing Potter had some how managed to kill the Dark Lord. Draco had to laugh; no one could kill the Dark Lord. One could only submit to the inevitable.
From the very first day of the first year, the more Draco learnt about the precious Potter, the more he began to find everything about him very irritating. The way his dark hair was always so untidy, the way he was so bloody perfect at everything he did, the way he was never without his intolerably loyal friends, the way girls swooned over his eyes calling him 'dashing' but mostly, the way he never even noticed Draco. And so, he had taken the only option he could find.
Through the years he made his own friends, if you could really call them friends. He buried away the loner boy who had carried his sister back home after she sprained her ankle. And became the boy with razor sharp wit and cold glare that could freeze boiling water. If he couldn't make people notice him by being nice, he would force them by being malicious. Everyone would know his name, no matter the price. Students didn't laugh at the name Draco any longer, and if they did they soon realized their grave mistake.
But why then did he was revert back into plain old Peroxide Boy whenever he returned home? Ten months of glares and spiteful cynical comments and then all of a sudden he was belittled to a puddle that couldn't even deal with a muggle? He watched her with a dark fascination, turning around as if in slow motion.
He had learnt from the master, in the dark hours of the night he had come to him and taught him everything. The Dark Lord would attack this year as planned. The plan he, Draco had helped craft into a masterful arrangement of magnificent death. Always in secret. No one could know. It would spoil the plan.
He had broken souls, hearts and minds and yet this little pathetic girl held the reins to his life in her hands. And why? Because they had grown up together? No, they hadn't grown up together. He had grown up in the dark, raised by the Lord of Darkness himself.
Then why was it she held such power over him? Prehaps because they had shared everything? She looked up to him, her brow furrowed in confusion pretending not to care and yet her eyes screamed concern.
And then suddenly, it came to him.
Like a cold slap to the face he realized why she had so much control over him. Her pale eyes seemed to penetrate his soul as she gazed at him concerned.
She was his weakness.
Every great wizard had a weakness, and the method to destroy them was through their weakness. Voldemort had, had a weakness. His muggle father, whom he had killed. Extract the weakness, leaving only the powerful.
He wanted power.
No, his body ached for it.
Every inch of his mind and body cried out for the supremacy that could make him powerful. As powerful as the Dark Lord who had taught him. And eventually, even more so. Draco peered into her eyes as she spoke to him, wondering if he could really do it. Could he kill his sister?
"Draco? Are you okay?"
Her voice was smooth and questioning, and as childhood memories flooded Draco's mind they seemed to flow around him. His body tingled with the thought of the command he would have, he would prove to everyone he was more than the pathetic loner they stereotyped him as. But the recollections of bliss cascaded down on him desperately trying to penetrate the hard shield of darkness.
And then suddenly there was a light, brighter than any other. Shining into his mind, illuminating every minute of his life he had shared with his sister. His companion. His kindred spirit.
"Draco?" Kylie repeated.
Her voice was like a beacon, shinning vibrantly into the darkness of the past few years pulling at him. The cataclysmic battle between good and evil was behind fought in his very soul. She was clutching his hand and holding onto him, saving him from. himself.
A small smile found its way to Draco's lips as he felt an epiphany wash over him. "I'm fine. I was just thinking about some things,"
The smile found its way to Kylie as well, and she grinned knowingly. "Yeah, I missed you too," And before he knew it she was one step below him, wrapping her arms around him in an embrace not like any other he had ever felt.
He took a deep breath, inhaling the strange Lilly scent of her hair and held her closely. Time seemed to suspend itself as they stood with each other as they had in their younger years. Finally she pulled away, and looking up at him she laughed.
"It's good to have you back,"
Draco merely observed her as she turned around once more to begin her descent. In that instant Draco's hands shot out, pushing her forward.
He watched her fall, her body twisting and cracking as it made its way down the staircase. Her striking red curls danced on the way down, and her head hit the wooden white stairs with a satisfying crack. She came to a final stop at the bottom of the staircase; one arm-twisted unnaturally behind her back, the other lay by her side. Her hair hid her face from him.
He came slowly to the last step and kneeling down beside her unconscious body he smiled.
"It's good to be back," He said in a whisper and then leaning over, he tilted her head to his and kissed her gently on the forehead.
More memories flooded him instead of emotions.
All the things she said running through his head.
The End Or is it?
I wrote this fic one day while grazing plot bunnies (kudos to MorganMerlyn) and this is the product of my excessive cough syrup guzzling and 'All the things she said' by TaTu on repeat.
It turned out NOTHING like I planned, I just let my fingers type and I came up with this. Its rather dark, which is very different for me. I might try it over again later, who knows. meh.
R&R appreciated.
----
I'm in serious shit, I feel totally lost
If I'm asking for help it's only because
Being with you has opened my eyes
Could I ever believe such a perfect surprise? All the things she said
All the things she said
Running through my head
All the things she said
All the things she said
Running through my head
This is not enough
Tatu
*
"Draco Thomas Thatcher you get your skinny little arse down here this instant! And get Kylie too!"
His mother's voice boomed through the peach coloured halls of their two- floor home. Surprisingly no matter how cluttered it was, Margaret Thatcher's voice could always reach him wherever he might be in the house. He half suspected she spoke to him through the air vents and often considered responding through them, just to see what happened.
Stepping up slowly to his younger sister's room, sixteen-year old Draco questioned what she could possibly be doing; sitting in her bedroom with the door closed and music blaring. 'And on second thought', he told himself. 'Maybe that isn't something I really wanted to be thinking about.' He rapped on the door loudly.
A head of long red curls poked out from a crack in the door and a pair of accusing light blue eyes glared up at him. Although Draco himself was rather short, he took pride in knowing he wasn't the shorter than his younger sister, even if he was only a few months older than her. Their height (or lack there of) and pale skin seemed to be the only things they had in common.
While Draco had the palest shade of blond hair ('Peroxide Boy' she had called him when they were younger.) Kylie's hair was an almost orangey red. Pale freckles scattered from one cheek to the other, while Draco's face was completely blemish free. Their eyes were completely different as well; his were a shadowy shade of cobalt while hers were a lighter shade of cerulean, which now watched him surprised but clearly an attempt to remain cool. "What do you want?"
"Mum called us," He replied blatantly. She eyed him suspiciously then nodding quickly she closed her door behind her and added. "I didn't even know you were back,"
"Of course you didn't, you were over Emma's when my train came in,"
"Ah," There was an awkward silence as they made their way down the hall. They seemed to have more and more of those now a days. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, his eyes falling on the bouncy sheen of her curls.
"So," Said Kylie, sounding oddly distracted. "How was this school year? Obviously you didn't learn how to make yourself taller yet,"
"Didn't you get my owls?" It came our sharper than intended but as usual, she seemed completely unaffected. Typical, just bloody typical of her.' Draco thought silently as they made their way down the stairs. 'I could've been killed and she wouldn't even know,'
"You expect me to be able to get anything from that mad bird?" She let out a small laugh and smile. "It's evil I tell you,"
Evil.
Draco paused, stopping behind her a few steps with his hand on the railing, utterly dazed. Evil. She didn't even know what evil was. What it truly was. Poor innocent Kylie, no matter how hard she might try to appear cool, she didn't have the slightest clue of what evil really was.
But he did.
Draco Thatcher had spent his entire life trying to prove he was better than his sister. Striving to be older, wiser, and taller. Of the latter was always up for argument in the Thatcher household. Their rivalries were always somewhat of a joke, but there had been times he had tried desperately to play the part of the older brother. Always had to be one step ahead of her. And somewhere in their life together he must have jumped to far ahead and now all there was between them was.
Awkwardness.
Somewhere in the back of his mind Draco knew where they had lost each other along the way. And he had recently come to terms where that time was exactly. It was that one day, little over five years ago when he had received a letter through the post from "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry".
When they were younger, no one would have ever guessed the quiet, outsider blond boy with the funny name was the older brother of cute, outgoing Kylie. If it wasn't for the fact they did everything together, Draco may have even forgotten. Although she would never admit it, he knew he was his only friend she really ever trusted. They would often spend hours talking with each other about everything that happened at school. They shared everything.
And that one simple piece of paper had changed both of their lives dramatically. It had opened doors Draco never thought imaginable, and had slammed shut on Kylie.
But he had attended Hogwarts despite her pleas, and leaving his family behind he entered into a world where magic was commonly used. A world of charms, potions and dark wizards. Draco soon learnt about Harry Potter, the boy who survived the attack of the world's most dark wizard ever.
It was like something out of a fairytale. The most powerful wicked wizard attacks, leaving the house in shambles and disappearing into the night never to be seen again. Leaving this little baby boy with only a lightning shaped scar. A spell that should have been his end, had in fact been his beginning.
Draco had tried to talk to Harry on the train on the way to the school in their first year but, some over bearing girl named Hermoine was monopolizing all of Harry's time and Draco had only the courage to walk by. He silently wished Harry would pick him out of the bunch to be his friend, his best friend even. One who would he could talk with for hours about all of the things he was to afraid to rub in Kylie's face. He never wanted to hurt his sister, but he just couldn't talk with her about a world that thought of her merely as a "muggle."
But all hopes of being Harry's friend were dashed when Draco was put into a different house. The Sorting Hat had told him with his 'thirst to prove himself' he would do perfectly in Slytherin in spite of how much he wished to be in Gryffindor. Did it matter his thirst to prove himself was to Harry? Every fibre of his being wanted to be in that damned house, so why couldn't that old piece of leather just do him the one pleasure of putting him where he wanted to be?
The years passed and slowly, the more he learnt about Harry Potter. The Dark Lord tried to steal a magical stone of eternal life in their first year, but Harry beat him off and saved the world from the torture and pain Lord Voldemort had promised. Another year his teenage soul possessed a girl and released a giant snake. And then in their fourth year something terrible happened. The Dark Lord returned to power.
It had been little over a year since that had happened and still Potter remained brave and steadfast. Voldemort seemed to have hidden in the shadows once more. People were happy to put it out of their minds, many truthfully believing Potter had some how managed to kill the Dark Lord. Draco had to laugh; no one could kill the Dark Lord. One could only submit to the inevitable.
From the very first day of the first year, the more Draco learnt about the precious Potter, the more he began to find everything about him very irritating. The way his dark hair was always so untidy, the way he was so bloody perfect at everything he did, the way he was never without his intolerably loyal friends, the way girls swooned over his eyes calling him 'dashing' but mostly, the way he never even noticed Draco. And so, he had taken the only option he could find.
Through the years he made his own friends, if you could really call them friends. He buried away the loner boy who had carried his sister back home after she sprained her ankle. And became the boy with razor sharp wit and cold glare that could freeze boiling water. If he couldn't make people notice him by being nice, he would force them by being malicious. Everyone would know his name, no matter the price. Students didn't laugh at the name Draco any longer, and if they did they soon realized their grave mistake.
But why then did he was revert back into plain old Peroxide Boy whenever he returned home? Ten months of glares and spiteful cynical comments and then all of a sudden he was belittled to a puddle that couldn't even deal with a muggle? He watched her with a dark fascination, turning around as if in slow motion.
He had learnt from the master, in the dark hours of the night he had come to him and taught him everything. The Dark Lord would attack this year as planned. The plan he, Draco had helped craft into a masterful arrangement of magnificent death. Always in secret. No one could know. It would spoil the plan.
He had broken souls, hearts and minds and yet this little pathetic girl held the reins to his life in her hands. And why? Because they had grown up together? No, they hadn't grown up together. He had grown up in the dark, raised by the Lord of Darkness himself.
Then why was it she held such power over him? Prehaps because they had shared everything? She looked up to him, her brow furrowed in confusion pretending not to care and yet her eyes screamed concern.
And then suddenly, it came to him.
Like a cold slap to the face he realized why she had so much control over him. Her pale eyes seemed to penetrate his soul as she gazed at him concerned.
She was his weakness.
Every great wizard had a weakness, and the method to destroy them was through their weakness. Voldemort had, had a weakness. His muggle father, whom he had killed. Extract the weakness, leaving only the powerful.
He wanted power.
No, his body ached for it.
Every inch of his mind and body cried out for the supremacy that could make him powerful. As powerful as the Dark Lord who had taught him. And eventually, even more so. Draco peered into her eyes as she spoke to him, wondering if he could really do it. Could he kill his sister?
"Draco? Are you okay?"
Her voice was smooth and questioning, and as childhood memories flooded Draco's mind they seemed to flow around him. His body tingled with the thought of the command he would have, he would prove to everyone he was more than the pathetic loner they stereotyped him as. But the recollections of bliss cascaded down on him desperately trying to penetrate the hard shield of darkness.
And then suddenly there was a light, brighter than any other. Shining into his mind, illuminating every minute of his life he had shared with his sister. His companion. His kindred spirit.
"Draco?" Kylie repeated.
Her voice was like a beacon, shinning vibrantly into the darkness of the past few years pulling at him. The cataclysmic battle between good and evil was behind fought in his very soul. She was clutching his hand and holding onto him, saving him from. himself.
A small smile found its way to Draco's lips as he felt an epiphany wash over him. "I'm fine. I was just thinking about some things,"
The smile found its way to Kylie as well, and she grinned knowingly. "Yeah, I missed you too," And before he knew it she was one step below him, wrapping her arms around him in an embrace not like any other he had ever felt.
He took a deep breath, inhaling the strange Lilly scent of her hair and held her closely. Time seemed to suspend itself as they stood with each other as they had in their younger years. Finally she pulled away, and looking up at him she laughed.
"It's good to have you back,"
Draco merely observed her as she turned around once more to begin her descent. In that instant Draco's hands shot out, pushing her forward.
He watched her fall, her body twisting and cracking as it made its way down the staircase. Her striking red curls danced on the way down, and her head hit the wooden white stairs with a satisfying crack. She came to a final stop at the bottom of the staircase; one arm-twisted unnaturally behind her back, the other lay by her side. Her hair hid her face from him.
He came slowly to the last step and kneeling down beside her unconscious body he smiled.
"It's good to be back," He said in a whisper and then leaning over, he tilted her head to his and kissed her gently on the forehead.
More memories flooded him instead of emotions.
All the things she said running through his head.
The End Or is it?