Well, you knew it had to be. Another one of those "Ginny and Draco make a bet fic" but I swear, it's not like any of those. This one has raw angst and action and emotion, yes, I promise. I've been a fan of this pair ever since reading the Wonderwall series. I can't find it on fanfiction.net anymore, but if you ever come across it, please read it. It's amazing.
Dedicated to Alina, yes, I know - Draco is a hot piece of sex. I'd like this to be one of those 'legendary' epics, you know, like the Eliza Series (why that is so legendary, I don't know) and the Slytherin Rising stories. I'd like to reach more then 100 reviews, but you know…Some wishes don't come true.
This is going to be a story of deceit, lies, and betrayal and of course, action and all that "good stuff." But that really isn't the main idea of the story, it's basically about forbidden love and how to cover it up. So, on with it, eh?
Disclaimer - I don't own anyone, except for Charlotte. She's Ginny's best friend, so she's going to make appearances. She'll play a major role in story three. JK Rowling owns everything else except the song. Linkin Park owns "From the Inside" which is the theme song for the whole epic. It'll be played at the beginning of every story.
Power of the Purebloods I: Thin Ice
By Riea Carlos
Chapter One: Sealed With a Handshake
"I don't know who to trust / No surprise / Everyone feels so far away from me / Heavy thoughts sift through the dust, and the lies / Trying not to break / But I'm so tired of this deceit / Every time I try to get upon my feet / All I ever think about is this / All the tiring time between / And how trying to put my trust in you / Just takes so much out of me.
Take everything from the inside / And throw it all away / 'Cause I swear / For the last time / I won't trust myself with you."
-- Linkin Park, "From the Inside"
The seventh-year Slytherins were no longer interested in trading each other for the exclusive cards inside of Chocolate Frogs. Nor were they plotting away endlessly on how to trick a fellow housemate into eating a dung flavored Bernie Botts Every Flavor Bean. Maybe the Gryffindors were still stuck on Peppermint Toads, and the Ravenclaws loitering their teenage years away on Fizzing Whizbees, and perhaps the Hufflepuffs were still oohing and aahing at the Cockroach Clusters.
But, no. Not Slytherin. No, this house was a bit above all the endless sweets at Honeydukes and above all the pranks at Zonko's. This house was mature. This house meant business. They knew their status, and anything below them on that ladder was worthless to their time. Which is why, for the most part, Slytherins stuck with Slytherins.
On the rainy night in October, our story starts, the Slytherins were in the Common Room, getting warm from the fire, no doubt -- and two of the most popular Slytherins were being, well, mature.
Draco Malfoy's silver hair was cascading over his dark smolders of eyes. He had the malicious smirk on his face, like the serpent that ate the canary. His wand was at hand, not that he was going to use it, but it made him feel important, special -- Superior.
Pansy Parkinson's brown curls were hanging loose on her shoulders. Her domineering azure irises were ablaze with a fierce fire. Her wand was at ready too, but only because she felt unsafe unarmed in front of a very armed Draco Malfoy.
"Put that down, Parkinson," Draco said coolly. He beckoned her wand with his chin. His smirk extended to a smug smile but then went back to the sneer. Pansy flipped her hair over her shoulders and tried with all her might to commensurate his smirk.
She dropped her wand and Draco pocketed his. "Funny," she muttered, "last night it was 'Oh, Pansy, please, don't stop' and today it's just Parkinson? I have to say, I'm very disappointed." Crabbe and Goyle were staring at them, dumbstruck, and Blaise Zabini was sitting in a Common Room chair, sniggering. He'd once been on the receiving end of one of Pansy's charms.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Draco hissed. She raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow and ran a hand along the lint-free sleeve of her Hogwarts robes. She didn't say anything for the longest time, but she watched his expression turn that of amusement to embarrassment and to contempt.
Draco felt like slapping Pansy. Who was she to make him look like the bad guy? After all, she'd ask him to go up to her dormitory. He felt like the world's biggest idiot. He had dated Pansy from their fourth year to their seventh year. Well, up until today that was. He'd seen her sharing an all too friendly conversation with Hufflepuff Ernie MacMillan.
Ernie MacMillan, who, even Draco had to admit, had become quite the stud. But Draco shook that mental image out of his mind. "You know," he continued, "you shouldn't even be in Slytherin. After all, isn't your grandma a Mudblood?"
Everyone dropped what they were doing. Those who dared speak were talking in hushed voices. Sure, they had all heard Draco use the word 'Mudblood' but never to a fellow Slytherin.
"You've got Muggle blood," Draco spat, "you're a disgrace to Slytherin." Pansy picked up her wand and her eyes flickered. She pressed Draco up against the fireplace tightly and grabbed onto his biceps.
She sank her boots into his leg and licked her lips seductively. "My blood is as pure as anyone's," she hissed. "You, my dear Draco, wouldn't even be able to bed a Weasley."
Pansy let go of him and he dropped clumsily into a chair. "Is that a threat?" he sighed, regaining his composure and standing back up.
She shook her head, still smiling. "I'd say it's the treaty to end all the treaties. You fuck a Weasley, any Weasley, in case you happen to park your broomstick on the other side of Diagon Alley -- and I'll back off, and never flaunt Ernie in your face again."
Draco grabbed her hand and ran his fingers over her palm for a little more time then necessary. Then he shook it firmly. "You're on."
Across the castle, in Gryffindor Common Room, Ginny Weasley and Charlotte Hembound were sitting right by the fire. Charlotte was a Half-Blood (Muggle mother, Wizard Father) with long, wavy black hair and almond-shaped green eyes and a very sharp nose. She wasn't exactly beautiful, but she wasn't unattractive. Boys saw her as unattractive because she was rude, sarcastic, and pessimistic about everything. She also could have given Hermione Granger a run for her money, as she was the top in every class.
Charlotte also never smiled. But she was Ginny Weasley's best friend, and Ginny couldn't help but love her.
"Char," Ginny groaned, looking over her Muggle Studies homework, "I forgot the main use of a television." Charlotte sighed, and set down her huge History of Magic textbook. Charlotte didn't have to take Muggle Studies because of her Muggle mother. Now she lived with her father but she knew just as much about Muggles as she did Wizards and Witches.
Ginny ran a hand through her red hair, but had forgotten that she'd put it up in a small bun. "It's to entertain, Gin. Entertain the watcher and inform them. Well, it's one of the main contraptions that inform the Muggles. Honestly, and your father works in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office?" Charlotte sneered.
Muggles use the idea of a television as a way of entertainment. It's also one of the main contraptions that they use to inform them of news and such. Other machines they use include the radio, or a computer. Ginny hastily wrote in cursive.
"I hate Muggle Studies," Ginny frowned. She would have much rather taken Arithmancy (after all, Hermione spoke very highly of it) but her father had pressured her into taking Muggle Studies so he could easily get her a job at the Ministry in his department once she graduated.
She made a face at her essay, as if it could really see her. "You should have taken Divination," Charlotte nodded, now indicating her birth-chart, and Ginny caught a glimpse of Charlotte's straight, rigid print - As I was born on the day of February 24, I am a Pisces, and therefore ruled by Neptune… Which means I am most compatible with…
"Yuck," Ginny said. "Ron told me all about that subject and how Professor Trelawney is a right old fraud. Always said how Harry was going to die…"
Charlotte rolled her eyes. She knew that Ginny was still rather taken with Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Was-Still-a-Virgin, even though Harry only looked down upon her as a little kid sister. She knew he was more interested in Cho Chang, who was graduating. Even Charlotte had to admit, while Harry was not very "experienced", he was rather cute, and it was so adorable when he became all modest and such.
"He'll never like me," Ginny said sadly. Charlotte nodded glumly, not being the type to sugarcoat anything for anyone. She peered over her shoulder and watched Harry as he thanked Hermione for her impeccable intelligence. "You have a better chance of going out with Draco Malfoy,"
Ginny gasped and turned as red as her hair. "Charlotte, please. He's a snot-nosed, pure-blood loving, rich little prick."
Charlotte grinned to herself after Ginny's rant, not only knowing everything in her studies, but knowing exactly everything that had to do with the gossip of Hogwarts and she knew that Draco didn't feel Ginny's hatred.
Draco lay in his bed, hearing the deafening snores of Crabbe and Goyle. So he had to find a Weasley, charm the pants off of them, and conquer them. He'd done it a million times before, but now why was it so hard just because it was a Weasley?
He only had his choice of two at the school…Ron and Ginny. Gee, he thought to himself, surprised he could even hear himself think over the snores, let's see. A little toe-rag with a bad temper or a naïve girl who really isn't all that ugly?
"Well, let's see now," he smiled. Virginia Weasley, he thought before rolling over on his side and finally falling asleep, get ready for the ultimate seduction.
