Title: Broken Wings
Author: Me, the black opal dragon, my name's Annie, but I really hate that name, so call me An, or Anni, otherwise, I sound like that annoying little orphan brat, y'know. from that movie...
Summary/Plot: Draco decides to question his father's reason, he falls in love, has his heart broken, and is resurrected by an angel with broken wings. It's cryptic until you read it.
Warnings: language, blood, violence, angst (as best I can write it) general bad stuff, hence the rating. No sex, but some stuff in later chapters that some might call kinky, but it's not.
Archive: if you ask. if you want.
Pairings: Draco/original character, but don't let that put you off the fic.
Disclaimer: Oh yeah, I own Harry Potter, I own all his little friends and I sold them to JKR for a fraction of what she's getting now with all that crappy merchandising.
A/N: Hi everyone, I've written fics before with the whole "Draco is obsessed with pure blood, and generally up himself" thing, but "Draco hates his father and generally everything else because he's a teenager, and he's bloody well entitled to hate whomever the fuck he likes." Sounded better for this particular fic, and before you ask, there's no Potter, or very little of him. The world doesn't revolve around him, so get over it. Draco is straight, at least in this fic anyway. This is my first fic posted on ff.net, and I'm not letting you read the others. They're crappy.
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Draco Malfoy sat in his room, reading a book on various poisons and their origins and uses. There was a small tribe of pygmies in South Africa, which tipped their arrows with a poison that made the inflicted turn mad, their hair fell out, and they turned green then died. Interesting.
He looked up as someone knocked on the door.
"Come in," he said, wondering who would disturb him when he had expressly instructed the servants to stay away. A small house elf poked her head around the doorway.
"B-b-begging your pardon master Malfoy. b-b-but."
"Out with it!" he growled. The house elf twisted one of her long ears around her finger.
"L-Lord Malfoy w-wants to speak to you." Draco made a shooing motion.
"Yes, yes, I'll go when I'm ready." The house elf looked down at the floor, nervously wringing her hands.
"Sparky is begging your pardon sir, but the Lord Malfoy is wishing to speak to you NOW, he says it is important." Draco, sighing, put the book down. He rose from his chair, and walked to the door, Sparky winked out of sight as he neared her.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Lucius Malfoy sneered at his son as Draco entered his office. When Draco sat down, he began.
"My son, it has come to my attention that you are neglecting your studies, you have missed your violin class, ballroom dancing lessons, potions tutoring. instead, you sit in your room doing what? Writing? Making up stories is not a fitting hobby for a Malfoy. You are a pureblood. Leave the story making to the peasants and the filth that line the streets." Draco gaped at him; he had not known that his father knew of his passion for writing. It was not a mere hobby.
"Father." he drawled "you should not concern yourself with what I do in my spare time. Besides, when was the last ball held at the manor? And surely I have no use for a violin I already get good grades in potions, and." Lucius cut him off.
"Firstly, Draco, you only get good marks in potions because I have informed Snape that if you fail, he will pay the price. There will be a ball held at the manor in three weeks, you will give a violin recital for a few of my associates, I wish to introduce you to them as my heir, and you will be required to dance, and act as a Malfoy should, for if you disgrace our family." he left the sentence unfinished, leaving the rest to Draco's imagination.
Draco scowled at his father, but knew that it was useless to argue. Growling to himself, he left, kicking the few house elves he came across in the hallway quite viciously.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The next day, Narcissa took her son to a tailor, to fit him for dress robes for the upcoming ball. Or so Lucius thought. In actual fact, Narcissa took him to a different tailor, a wizard named Jonathan who specialized in muggle formal wear, or, semi-muggle formal wear. His work was the finest, renowned throughout the wizarding world for the thread spells, and intricate detail in dresses and tuxedos, and his cloak clasps were hand-crafted silver.
He smiled and greeted Narcissa like an old friend. She explained to Draco that she had a wardrobe full of some of his finest work, Draco nodded, but remained silent. Jonathon looked him up and down, and then scribbled something on a piece of parchment. He circled Draco, writing down his measurements by sight.
Jonathan showed Draco some designs, but Draco wrinkled his nose at each. Narcissa pointed out a nice outfit, and Draco laughed. Jonathan seemed offended, until Draco explained that it was perfect, and he couldn't wait to see his father's face. Draco, Jonathan and Narcissa worked on detail for the next hour, and finally, the design was complete. Jonathan promised to have the outfit ready before the week was out, and Narcissa took Draco shopping afterwards.
She seemed so much happier when she was away from the manor, the place seemed to weigh on her soul, but now, with the sun shining on her face, and the wind blowing her pale gold hair, she looked happy, free, and more alive than he had ever seen her. She bought him an ice cream, and they laughed as they had when Draco was a small child.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Draco sat on his bed writing, he was doing small descriptive pieces, but he just couldn't focus. He sighed and threw the pieces of parchment off his bed. He started to idly draw shapes in blue ink on his arm, bored.
He growled at the house elf that decided to stick his head around Draco's door at the moment when he was feeling most vicious.
"Twitchy is so very sorry to disturb you master Malfoy sir, but you needs to eat. Twitchy does not want to have to beat himself around the ears because he failed to make sure master Malfoy eats something." Draco sighed.
"Then bring me food," he said irritably "and then you can't be blamed if I choose not to eat it." Draco didn't really care what happened to Twitchy, he was an annoying creature, but Draco was hungry, so he might as well eat.
"You is right master Malfoy, Twitchy will."
"Get. Out." Draco ground out, his hands clenched at his sides. The pathetic creature scurried away, leaving Draco alone once more.
Draco flopped back onto his bed. There was no way he could avoid this ball, if he mysteriously fell ill, his father would suspect that he was faking it. It wouldn't be so bad, if he just didn't have to play the violin! He despised classical music.
He decided to take a walk around the manor to take his mind off his impending doom. He was passing the large front doors when somebody knocked. Curious. father wasn't expecting company that he knew of, and the wards on the manor should keep away unwanted company. The house elves should have seen to it, but. Draco was there already. His curiosity got the better of him, and he opened the door.
On his doorstep stood a man in smart robes, Draco didn't know him. The man looked at Draco, his smile belying his intentions. He was there to sell them something, and he wouldn't leave until he'd sold them two, or maybe three useless pieces of junk.
"Good morning young man, may I speak to whoever owns this place?" Draco scowled at him.
"No, you may not." He drawled, "You may speak to me, unless you'd rather occupy yourself speaking to one of the house elves. My father has no time for filth like you." The man did not seem to register the insult.
"Well then young sir, I'm here to offer you a deal."
"No shit." Draco replied sarcastically, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe. The man continued.
"Yes siree bob, today is your lucky day. No-longer will you have to bother with remembering ten thousand different types of cleaning spells, this handy little gadget does all the work for you, it cleans everything, and it's totally safe. There's only two words to remember, an activation, and a deactivation, and they're written on the unit." The man pulled out a small shiny object from the sleeve of his robes, indicating the two words magically flashing across its surface. Draco was unimpressed.
"We have house elves." but the man paid him no heed.
"Just 300 galleons will get you this wonderful device, and I'll throw in an attachment that polishes broomstick handles for free, think how much you'll save!" Draco snorted.
"And think how much I'll save if I don't buy it at all. I've had enough of you, you pathetic little insect. Good day." The man stood there, shocked, as Draco slammed the door in his face. The man didn't know this, but it was lucky for him it was Draco. Lucius would have killed him for even being there.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Draco went back to his room to work on a story he was writing. It wasn't really going anywhere, so he decided to draw instead.
As a child, Draco was plagued by nightmares, and not even a dreamless sleep potion could rid him of them, so he drew them, and somehow, they disappeared. Now, he had perfected his drawing skills. He drew his dreams still, if he awoke in the night and could not sleep, and then used them for story ideas, but today, he could not think of anything to draw. It was as if his muse had left him, and he meant that literally.
Draco often sensed a presence near him when he was totally alone, and sometimes, he heard whispers. He wasn't crazy; there was a magical explanation. somewhere. He knew that there was a being there, he had never seen it, but it was there in the times he most needed it.
The first time he had met Lord Voldemort, it was there, giving him strength. It gave him inspiration, company, he spoke to it when he was alone in his room at night. He could feel it growing stronger as he spoke, but it never replied. He often begged it to reveal itself, but it never did. Yet he knew somehow, that when it had the strength, it would reveal itself to him, and speak to him. It seemed strange, but he would trust this being with his life.
His father had never been the trusting type, and neither was Draco really, but he had known this being since he was a child, as well as you could know something that couldn't speak to you. He knew when it was around, and when it had gone. He could recognize it; simply by sensing it, it was like a magical sixth sense.
Tonight, he sat on his bed and sought out the familiar feeling that the being was there. It was, and stronger than it ever had been. Maybe tonight.
"Hey, where did you go today? You went missing." No reply. Draco tried again; still hopeful. "It would be nice if I had a name to call you. Ever since I was a child, I have thought of you by the feeling of your presence, but it would be good to use a name for once."
He started to feel a strange sensation in his mind, slightly hazy, yet sharper at the same time, and a word formed in his head.
*Belphegor.*
"Y-you're in my head." Draco smiled, a genuine smile. "This is awesome! I always knew that one day you would speak to me. So your name's Belphegor."
*Yes. In speaking to me, you gave me strength, and I thank you. I am nowhere near full strength yet, and I cannot speak to you like this for long, it is draining my energy.*
"You're a magical being, right?"
*That is correct.*
"Maybe you can share my magical energy, I have quite a bit to spare, and it should strengthen you enough to allow you to be visible." Draco suggested, wincing at the crackle of magic and a strange mix of hope and fear that shot through him.
*No Draco, we must never share magical energy, our souls will melt together, and I will be linked to you permanently, through an unbreakable magic bond. It has benefited none in the past.*
"You've always been there for me, it's the least that I can do to repay you." Draco replied stubbornly.
*Very well then, but it will take time. Best to do this gradually, you are tired already from my being in your mind. Rest, and tomorrow, we begin.*
Draco felt Belphegor leave his mind, and went to sleep, Belphegor watching over him, protecting him from the nightmares as he always had.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The next morning, Draco drew. He drew things the likes of which he had never drawn before. Strange images sprang to his mind, it was possibly an after-effect of having Belphegor in his mind, or maybe he was full of creative energy because Belphegor was getting stronger. Either way, he spent all morning drawing, and was exhausted by lunch time.
Sparky brought him food around noon. She crept into the room, leaving the food by the door, but either Draco didn't notice her, or he didn't care. She left as quietly as she could, not wanting to find out which.
Lucius was away from the manor on some death-eater thing, and wouldn't be back for days, so Draco was left pretty much alone. His mother was busy doing whatever it was that she did with her time, and didn't disturb him.
Some time after lunch, Draco sat on his bed, clearing away his sketches. "Belphegor." Draco could sense his presence, so he continued. "I'm sick of waiting, my magic is at full strength, and I want to share my power."
*Have patience,* the voice answered in his mind; *I am ready to begin now. Close your eyes, and clear your mind Draco, if this is not done properly, it can be dangerous.*
Draco did as he was told, and cleared his mind. He felt Belphegor enter his mind once more, and their magics joined. They spent almost half an hour in this state, sharing mind and magic, before Belphegor left his mind, leaving an exhausted Draco to collapse on the bed, falling asleep almost immediately, his depleted magical energy slowly regenerating itself as he slept.
Belphegor slept also, stronger than he had been in a long time, yet still so weak. He would watch over Draco, to ensure that no harm came to him. The boy was the only true friend he had ever had.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Over the next week, Draco and Belphegor shared magic almost every night. It tired Draco, but he was determined to succeed, to give his friend his strength back, and for this, Belphegor was grateful. They knew each other now, the way each other's minds worked, though they did not have each other's memories. Such was the nature of the magical bond.
Belphegor could speak to Draco freely now, without getting tired, but he still lacked he strength to make himself visible again.
"Hey, Belphegor?" Draco said one afternoon, the day before the ball,
*Yes?* Came the reply.
"I'm not tired anymore, do you think that you'll be able to become visible if we share magic again?" he asked.
*I'm almost certain of it, but are you sure you are recovered from last time*
"I'm fine. Let's make you visible again then."
Draco cleared his mind, as he had done so many times before. He felt Belphegor in his mind, and in his magic. There was a flare of power, and a shadowy being began to take form.
A/N: And that's where I leave it peoplez. There is a plot in there somewhere, and Belphegor isn't the main focus of this fic. Without giving too much detail, Draco meets a girl. *Awed silence, then scattered applause* yes, I, the dark one, wrote a romance! Anyhow, please tell me if this is too similar to something you've read before ^.^; I don't read much fanfic like this, so I don't know. I survive on reviews, and my pet Draco eats flamers. Good boy. *pats Draco on the head* feel free to pick faults, I need to learn how to write somehow. You'll find out what Belphegor looks like soon, I promise. (And it's pronounced "Bell-fay-gohr" because I damn well say so.)
Author: Me, the black opal dragon, my name's Annie, but I really hate that name, so call me An, or Anni, otherwise, I sound like that annoying little orphan brat, y'know. from that movie...
Summary/Plot: Draco decides to question his father's reason, he falls in love, has his heart broken, and is resurrected by an angel with broken wings. It's cryptic until you read it.
Warnings: language, blood, violence, angst (as best I can write it) general bad stuff, hence the rating. No sex, but some stuff in later chapters that some might call kinky, but it's not.
Archive: if you ask. if you want.
Pairings: Draco/original character, but don't let that put you off the fic.
Disclaimer: Oh yeah, I own Harry Potter, I own all his little friends and I sold them to JKR for a fraction of what she's getting now with all that crappy merchandising.
A/N: Hi everyone, I've written fics before with the whole "Draco is obsessed with pure blood, and generally up himself" thing, but "Draco hates his father and generally everything else because he's a teenager, and he's bloody well entitled to hate whomever the fuck he likes." Sounded better for this particular fic, and before you ask, there's no Potter, or very little of him. The world doesn't revolve around him, so get over it. Draco is straight, at least in this fic anyway. This is my first fic posted on ff.net, and I'm not letting you read the others. They're crappy.
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Draco Malfoy sat in his room, reading a book on various poisons and their origins and uses. There was a small tribe of pygmies in South Africa, which tipped their arrows with a poison that made the inflicted turn mad, their hair fell out, and they turned green then died. Interesting.
He looked up as someone knocked on the door.
"Come in," he said, wondering who would disturb him when he had expressly instructed the servants to stay away. A small house elf poked her head around the doorway.
"B-b-begging your pardon master Malfoy. b-b-but."
"Out with it!" he growled. The house elf twisted one of her long ears around her finger.
"L-Lord Malfoy w-wants to speak to you." Draco made a shooing motion.
"Yes, yes, I'll go when I'm ready." The house elf looked down at the floor, nervously wringing her hands.
"Sparky is begging your pardon sir, but the Lord Malfoy is wishing to speak to you NOW, he says it is important." Draco, sighing, put the book down. He rose from his chair, and walked to the door, Sparky winked out of sight as he neared her.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Lucius Malfoy sneered at his son as Draco entered his office. When Draco sat down, he began.
"My son, it has come to my attention that you are neglecting your studies, you have missed your violin class, ballroom dancing lessons, potions tutoring. instead, you sit in your room doing what? Writing? Making up stories is not a fitting hobby for a Malfoy. You are a pureblood. Leave the story making to the peasants and the filth that line the streets." Draco gaped at him; he had not known that his father knew of his passion for writing. It was not a mere hobby.
"Father." he drawled "you should not concern yourself with what I do in my spare time. Besides, when was the last ball held at the manor? And surely I have no use for a violin I already get good grades in potions, and." Lucius cut him off.
"Firstly, Draco, you only get good marks in potions because I have informed Snape that if you fail, he will pay the price. There will be a ball held at the manor in three weeks, you will give a violin recital for a few of my associates, I wish to introduce you to them as my heir, and you will be required to dance, and act as a Malfoy should, for if you disgrace our family." he left the sentence unfinished, leaving the rest to Draco's imagination.
Draco scowled at his father, but knew that it was useless to argue. Growling to himself, he left, kicking the few house elves he came across in the hallway quite viciously.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The next day, Narcissa took her son to a tailor, to fit him for dress robes for the upcoming ball. Or so Lucius thought. In actual fact, Narcissa took him to a different tailor, a wizard named Jonathan who specialized in muggle formal wear, or, semi-muggle formal wear. His work was the finest, renowned throughout the wizarding world for the thread spells, and intricate detail in dresses and tuxedos, and his cloak clasps were hand-crafted silver.
He smiled and greeted Narcissa like an old friend. She explained to Draco that she had a wardrobe full of some of his finest work, Draco nodded, but remained silent. Jonathon looked him up and down, and then scribbled something on a piece of parchment. He circled Draco, writing down his measurements by sight.
Jonathan showed Draco some designs, but Draco wrinkled his nose at each. Narcissa pointed out a nice outfit, and Draco laughed. Jonathan seemed offended, until Draco explained that it was perfect, and he couldn't wait to see his father's face. Draco, Jonathan and Narcissa worked on detail for the next hour, and finally, the design was complete. Jonathan promised to have the outfit ready before the week was out, and Narcissa took Draco shopping afterwards.
She seemed so much happier when she was away from the manor, the place seemed to weigh on her soul, but now, with the sun shining on her face, and the wind blowing her pale gold hair, she looked happy, free, and more alive than he had ever seen her. She bought him an ice cream, and they laughed as they had when Draco was a small child.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Draco sat on his bed writing, he was doing small descriptive pieces, but he just couldn't focus. He sighed and threw the pieces of parchment off his bed. He started to idly draw shapes in blue ink on his arm, bored.
He growled at the house elf that decided to stick his head around Draco's door at the moment when he was feeling most vicious.
"Twitchy is so very sorry to disturb you master Malfoy sir, but you needs to eat. Twitchy does not want to have to beat himself around the ears because he failed to make sure master Malfoy eats something." Draco sighed.
"Then bring me food," he said irritably "and then you can't be blamed if I choose not to eat it." Draco didn't really care what happened to Twitchy, he was an annoying creature, but Draco was hungry, so he might as well eat.
"You is right master Malfoy, Twitchy will."
"Get. Out." Draco ground out, his hands clenched at his sides. The pathetic creature scurried away, leaving Draco alone once more.
Draco flopped back onto his bed. There was no way he could avoid this ball, if he mysteriously fell ill, his father would suspect that he was faking it. It wouldn't be so bad, if he just didn't have to play the violin! He despised classical music.
He decided to take a walk around the manor to take his mind off his impending doom. He was passing the large front doors when somebody knocked. Curious. father wasn't expecting company that he knew of, and the wards on the manor should keep away unwanted company. The house elves should have seen to it, but. Draco was there already. His curiosity got the better of him, and he opened the door.
On his doorstep stood a man in smart robes, Draco didn't know him. The man looked at Draco, his smile belying his intentions. He was there to sell them something, and he wouldn't leave until he'd sold them two, or maybe three useless pieces of junk.
"Good morning young man, may I speak to whoever owns this place?" Draco scowled at him.
"No, you may not." He drawled, "You may speak to me, unless you'd rather occupy yourself speaking to one of the house elves. My father has no time for filth like you." The man did not seem to register the insult.
"Well then young sir, I'm here to offer you a deal."
"No shit." Draco replied sarcastically, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe. The man continued.
"Yes siree bob, today is your lucky day. No-longer will you have to bother with remembering ten thousand different types of cleaning spells, this handy little gadget does all the work for you, it cleans everything, and it's totally safe. There's only two words to remember, an activation, and a deactivation, and they're written on the unit." The man pulled out a small shiny object from the sleeve of his robes, indicating the two words magically flashing across its surface. Draco was unimpressed.
"We have house elves." but the man paid him no heed.
"Just 300 galleons will get you this wonderful device, and I'll throw in an attachment that polishes broomstick handles for free, think how much you'll save!" Draco snorted.
"And think how much I'll save if I don't buy it at all. I've had enough of you, you pathetic little insect. Good day." The man stood there, shocked, as Draco slammed the door in his face. The man didn't know this, but it was lucky for him it was Draco. Lucius would have killed him for even being there.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Draco went back to his room to work on a story he was writing. It wasn't really going anywhere, so he decided to draw instead.
As a child, Draco was plagued by nightmares, and not even a dreamless sleep potion could rid him of them, so he drew them, and somehow, they disappeared. Now, he had perfected his drawing skills. He drew his dreams still, if he awoke in the night and could not sleep, and then used them for story ideas, but today, he could not think of anything to draw. It was as if his muse had left him, and he meant that literally.
Draco often sensed a presence near him when he was totally alone, and sometimes, he heard whispers. He wasn't crazy; there was a magical explanation. somewhere. He knew that there was a being there, he had never seen it, but it was there in the times he most needed it.
The first time he had met Lord Voldemort, it was there, giving him strength. It gave him inspiration, company, he spoke to it when he was alone in his room at night. He could feel it growing stronger as he spoke, but it never replied. He often begged it to reveal itself, but it never did. Yet he knew somehow, that when it had the strength, it would reveal itself to him, and speak to him. It seemed strange, but he would trust this being with his life.
His father had never been the trusting type, and neither was Draco really, but he had known this being since he was a child, as well as you could know something that couldn't speak to you. He knew when it was around, and when it had gone. He could recognize it; simply by sensing it, it was like a magical sixth sense.
Tonight, he sat on his bed and sought out the familiar feeling that the being was there. It was, and stronger than it ever had been. Maybe tonight.
"Hey, where did you go today? You went missing." No reply. Draco tried again; still hopeful. "It would be nice if I had a name to call you. Ever since I was a child, I have thought of you by the feeling of your presence, but it would be good to use a name for once."
He started to feel a strange sensation in his mind, slightly hazy, yet sharper at the same time, and a word formed in his head.
*Belphegor.*
"Y-you're in my head." Draco smiled, a genuine smile. "This is awesome! I always knew that one day you would speak to me. So your name's Belphegor."
*Yes. In speaking to me, you gave me strength, and I thank you. I am nowhere near full strength yet, and I cannot speak to you like this for long, it is draining my energy.*
"You're a magical being, right?"
*That is correct.*
"Maybe you can share my magical energy, I have quite a bit to spare, and it should strengthen you enough to allow you to be visible." Draco suggested, wincing at the crackle of magic and a strange mix of hope and fear that shot through him.
*No Draco, we must never share magical energy, our souls will melt together, and I will be linked to you permanently, through an unbreakable magic bond. It has benefited none in the past.*
"You've always been there for me, it's the least that I can do to repay you." Draco replied stubbornly.
*Very well then, but it will take time. Best to do this gradually, you are tired already from my being in your mind. Rest, and tomorrow, we begin.*
Draco felt Belphegor leave his mind, and went to sleep, Belphegor watching over him, protecting him from the nightmares as he always had.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The next morning, Draco drew. He drew things the likes of which he had never drawn before. Strange images sprang to his mind, it was possibly an after-effect of having Belphegor in his mind, or maybe he was full of creative energy because Belphegor was getting stronger. Either way, he spent all morning drawing, and was exhausted by lunch time.
Sparky brought him food around noon. She crept into the room, leaving the food by the door, but either Draco didn't notice her, or he didn't care. She left as quietly as she could, not wanting to find out which.
Lucius was away from the manor on some death-eater thing, and wouldn't be back for days, so Draco was left pretty much alone. His mother was busy doing whatever it was that she did with her time, and didn't disturb him.
Some time after lunch, Draco sat on his bed, clearing away his sketches. "Belphegor." Draco could sense his presence, so he continued. "I'm sick of waiting, my magic is at full strength, and I want to share my power."
*Have patience,* the voice answered in his mind; *I am ready to begin now. Close your eyes, and clear your mind Draco, if this is not done properly, it can be dangerous.*
Draco did as he was told, and cleared his mind. He felt Belphegor enter his mind once more, and their magics joined. They spent almost half an hour in this state, sharing mind and magic, before Belphegor left his mind, leaving an exhausted Draco to collapse on the bed, falling asleep almost immediately, his depleted magical energy slowly regenerating itself as he slept.
Belphegor slept also, stronger than he had been in a long time, yet still so weak. He would watch over Draco, to ensure that no harm came to him. The boy was the only true friend he had ever had.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Over the next week, Draco and Belphegor shared magic almost every night. It tired Draco, but he was determined to succeed, to give his friend his strength back, and for this, Belphegor was grateful. They knew each other now, the way each other's minds worked, though they did not have each other's memories. Such was the nature of the magical bond.
Belphegor could speak to Draco freely now, without getting tired, but he still lacked he strength to make himself visible again.
"Hey, Belphegor?" Draco said one afternoon, the day before the ball,
*Yes?* Came the reply.
"I'm not tired anymore, do you think that you'll be able to become visible if we share magic again?" he asked.
*I'm almost certain of it, but are you sure you are recovered from last time*
"I'm fine. Let's make you visible again then."
Draco cleared his mind, as he had done so many times before. He felt Belphegor in his mind, and in his magic. There was a flare of power, and a shadowy being began to take form.
A/N: And that's where I leave it peoplez. There is a plot in there somewhere, and Belphegor isn't the main focus of this fic. Without giving too much detail, Draco meets a girl. *Awed silence, then scattered applause* yes, I, the dark one, wrote a romance! Anyhow, please tell me if this is too similar to something you've read before ^.^; I don't read much fanfic like this, so I don't know. I survive on reviews, and my pet Draco eats flamers. Good boy. *pats Draco on the head* feel free to pick faults, I need to learn how to write somehow. You'll find out what Belphegor looks like soon, I promise. (And it's pronounced "Bell-fay-gohr" because I damn well say so.)