A/N: Hello again everyone! I'm so happy you all came back! I was scared I
may have frightened you all off, as has happened before. Is it just me or
has this fic gotten a little dark? Huh. And it was supposed to be a
humorous fic. Ah well. It's funny to me!
At the risk of sounding like a total and complete idiot, what-the-hell is a
Mary-Sue? And, if anyone knows what the difference between a Shounen Ai and
a Yaoi fic is, could you tell me that too?
Um, also, I was just looking at my story chapters, and I apologize for how
short they are! I really hadn't noticed! Please, don't think I hate you or
anything; it's just that it was a good place to stop!
Let's see. Issues to address. Hmm. Ah yes! sadiew, about the ships in this
story. Let me think. I can't tell you too much because I myself don't know.
You're really perceptive if you noticed my little hints about those two!
But I'm not sure if that one's going to happen. I kinda like the pairing.
But maybe I should just let the characters grow first. At any rate, I can't
tell you what the major ships are because: A) It would spoil the story, B)
I don't know.
Are you getting tired of my rambling yet? Okay then, I'll shut up! Story-
time!
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters not mine-end of story, get it? Good. Aidan is mine. Rin is mine. Sesaru is mine. In fact, if you don't recognize them/it, IT"S MINE!
Warning: THIS STORY CONTAINS SLASH, HORRIBLE GRAMMAR, HORRIBLE PUNCTUATION, AND OTHER THINGS! IF THIS DISTURBS YOU, BEGONE!
This chapter is dedicated to: Brenna8! Brenna8, you're totally right, I hadn't even noticed the level of freedom Blaise is allowed! What a horrible thing for me to have overlooked! Well, we all know what will happen now! Read on, read on!
Chapter 6: Blaise's Demise
Draco drug Blaise down the hall by his shirtsleeve, muttering curses under his breath. "I'll be damned if he's 'alright'! He's so sleep-deprived it's not even funny."
Blaise said not a word, having to run to keep up with Draco. "Draco?" he asked quietly, slightly frightened. Draco didn't appear to have heard him, as he kept on walking, his curses growing more and more vile.
They passed many doors, and many halls, and Blaise began to feel lost. He was rather frightened of the large house, and really had no idea what direction they had came from. He didn't even know where the house was located, as Draco had paused partway through their journey to blindfold him and confiscate his wand. Blaise hadn't let go of that without a fight.
He had kept his fist clenched tightly around it, though he couldn't possibly fight them. His hands were tied together in front of him, and his ankles were bound together, merely leaving enough slack to allow him to walk on his own.
He had known that he would have to give in eventually, but he made sure they knew he would not be giving in to their every demand. When Draco had hit him again, knocking him to his knees, Blaise had tightened his grip on his wand, then hoping it wouldn't snap in half.
He had been hit and kicked numerous times, by Draco himself, as Harry had said he would take no part in Draco's discipline of his prisoner.
In the end it was the Cruciatus that loosened his grip on his wand. Though Draco would not merely leave it at that. He made Blaise stand and hand over the wand by himself, laughing at his repeated failures to struggle to his feet.
He had given Draco the wand, had watched with tears in his eyes as Draco had snapped it in half right in front of him. He had stared silently, ashamed to admit, even to himself, that Draco had defeated him yet again. He vowed that he would get back at him one day. He now found himself wondering if that day would ever come.
He was helpless without his wand, and Draco knew that. Perhaps that was why he was no longer bound. Blaise knew it did not matter whether or not he had the wand, Draco was much more powerful than he was. He always had been. At the current moment, Blaise didn't care a wit for his wand, or for where he was. He merely wanted to escape. He didn't care if he could tell Voldemort where the Forbidden were hiding, he didn't care if he would be hopelessly lost. He was scared for his life, knowing that it was only a matter of time before Draco remembered why he had spared him.
And when he did, the game was over. He would be dead, and none too quickly; judging from the temper Draco was in.
Thinking of Draco's temper, Blaise forced his mind back to the present. He once again found himself wondering if Draco had picked up on the hints that the tall blonde man had dropped. Somehow, Blaise doubted he had. Draco had never been real perceptive about anyone else's feelings.
Blaise was jerked abruptly out of his reverie by a sudden eruption of noise. He jerked his head up and glanced around, absorbing the sights and sounds. Draco drug him further into the massive room, ignoring the stares he received.
Draco had stopped his muttering, and replaced his frown with a smile. He shoved Blaise roughly into the nearest seat, telling him firmly to 'stay put or else'. Then he disappeared into the sea of people.
Blaise looked around hopefully, getting to his feet. He was startled when he was pushed back into the chair. Blaise whipped around to see who had stopped him, but found he did not recognize the beautiful woman before him.
She smiled at him and leaned in to whisper in his ear. "I would suggest you stay seated, we wouldn't want to hurry your death along, now would we? You and I both know how Draco can get when someone ignores a direct order." She whispered, her long red hair falling over her shoulder as she straightened back up to her full height.
Blaise stared at her, puzzled. "Who are you?" he asked. The woman did not answer; she merely turned and sat down, her eyes never leaving him.
********
Draco walked through the kitchen, laughing and nodding whenever he was spoken to, though he paid little attention to what they really said to him. He made his way through the people, towards the food.
He still couldn't believe how many people were there, even after nearly a year. He still didn't know everyone, nor did he really want to. He knew the people he had started out with, and a few key members of the Republic. The few key members of the Republic being the leaders, the people he was forced to speak with.
He never had been the socialist. He had never wanted to meet new people and 'broaden his horizons'. In fact, after the war, he had become something of a recluse, much to everyone's surprise. He had surprised himself by allowing himself to become friends with his former enemies, the Gryffindor's Wonder Trio.
He smiled as he remembered what had prompted him to move in here, where there was not a moment's peace, where there was always some disruption and chaos happening.
He shook himself and came back to the present, grabbing himself something to eat, and as an afterthought, Blaise as well. He walked back through the people to the table he had left Blaise at.
"Ah, Draco! I had heard you were back! About time too! Do you know how worried Ai---I mean, I was?" The red-head at the table asked, rising to her feet, and abruptly ignoring Blaise.
Draco set the food down calmly, and sat down in the nearest chair. "Mali, nice to see you too. I've already been to see Aidan, so don't bother preaching. Rather, he dragged me off to yell at me, but that's beside the point. What are you doing talking to Blaise?" he asked, pushing some of the food towards Blaise. "Eat. No use starving to death, that takes all the fun out of it you know." Draco addressed Blaise, not bothering to look at him.
The red-head sat as well. "I assume you covered up the investigation for us?" she asked, reaching across the table for a bite of Draco's food. Draco slapped her hand away, half of a smile on his face. "Of course, they'll forget about it in no time. But really, did we have to kill him? I'll kind of miss him." Draco said sadly. Mali looked slightly surprised, and paused with her hand half to her mouth. "YOU? Miss Remus? My my, becoming a bit soft now are we? What did you bring him," here she gestured at Blaise. "back here for? Tell me it wasn't just to kill him. Please tell me that."
There was a pause in the conversation, Mali waiting for Draco's response. "Um. Draco?" came the hesitant call. Draco turned his attention to Blaise. "What do you want?" he asked in annoyance. Blaise winced.
"I was just. That is. Nevermind. Forget it." he finished weakly, looking down at the table. Mali smiled in amusement. "D'y'know what? He tried to get away from us! I think you should just get rid of him now. It would simplify things a lot. And Aidan might ease up a bit. You know, someone needs to do something about him. He is seriously overworked, and he never stops either. I mean, I know this is a war of sorts, but----"
"Drop it Mali. He won't stop, you and I both know it, and there is nothing either of us can do about it. It's up to him to realize what needs to be done. Now, if you'll excuse me, Blaise and I will be leaving." Draco said harshly, a nasty expression fleeting across his face. He pushed the chair away from the table and stood, grabbing a hold of Blaise's shirt again and jerking him after him, parting the crowd of people like butter.
Mali stared after them, not sure what to think of him.
*******
"NO! Stop it! Don't you come any closer! Put that down! What are you doing? Draco! Draco stop it!" Blaise screamed in fear, trying to scramble away. His wrists were the only thing supporting him as he hung from the ceiling. The metal cuffs cut into his wrists, and drew blood. He watched as Draco drew closer, his knife raised. He stopped screaming as he realized nothing would be gained by it. He stopped struggling and merely hung where he was, tears trickling down his face. He sobbed silently, his body shaking.
He watched as the blood from his wrists trickled slowly down his arm. It was the only blood that had been drawn so far. In fact, he had been hanging from the ceiling for a little over an hour, watching Draco watch him, and crying with the agony of hanging from his wrists.
The pain was nothing but a dull ache now, and Blaise was tired of hanging. He watched with a dull interest as Draco came closer, his face serious. He watched as Draco drew his knife up, and slashed a small cut into his leg. He felt a sharp pain as the blood began to trickle out of the wound, and he whimpered. He glanced down at the cut, staring in wonder at the blood. He stared at Draco. "Why? Why not just kill me now?" he whispered sadly. Draco didn't respond. He raised the knife again, determined to make him scream. He slashed Blaise through the arm, on his stomach, and his leg again.
Blaise screamed in pain, and tried to writhe away. Draco stared at him, waiting for the screams to subside. Then he cut again, watching the blood run slowly down his body, watching the material from his clothes fall silently down to the ground. Watching as the first drop of blood hit the ground. He watched Blaise scream and writhe, he watched with disinterest as he tried to get away.
He cut again. And again. All the while, Blaise screamed, tears burning his eyes as they streamed out. Blaise cried out for mercy, he begged and pleaded.
*******
Some time later, Draco stood staring at Blaise, who was hanging by one wrist from the ceiling. The metal of the band around his wrist cut into the skin, cutting off the blood circulation to that hand. Blaise, however, was not exactly in the right frame of mind to notice.
In fact, it would have been dead scary if he had noticed, seeing as he was unconscious.
Blaise's body was covered from head to toe in small cuts and bruises. He was barely clothed, and shreds of his clothing lay scattered around on the floor under him.
After Draco stood there for a few moments, admiring his work, and savoring the silence, he walked over to where Blaise hung. He climbed up onto the chair behind Blaise and reached an arm gently around Blaise's body. He reached his other hand up to undo the binding that held Blaise up from the ground.
All of Blaise's weight fell on Draco's arm, and Draco leaned forward for a few seconds, before gracefully climbing down from the chair.
He carefully set Blaise down on the bloody ground and stood up, unsure of what to do with him, knowing he was not yet dead, yet also knowing he would likely die before the night was over.
The others found it amusing how kind he was to his victim's while they died. Draco knew he was merely doing as his father had raised him to do. No matter how cruel the torment, one should always be allowed to die as peacefully as possible. It was amazing how much he had looked up to his father, amazing how often his father had carried out his own word.
Draco sat down in the chair beside Blaise, admiring the way the blood trickled down his body. He was mesmerized by the way Blaise was breathing. He found himself drowning in the death, watching as the life slowly left his body.
He bent over, brushing his hand against Blaise's face, brushing away the blood.
Aidan watched this from the doorway, wondering what Draco found so amazing in the process of death. He watched, knowing that Draco always loved his victims in the end. He never left their side until they had truly died.
However, this did not mean he was not ruthless. Most of the time he killed quickly, though at times, when he was alone, he would draw out the process as long as he could.
Aidan knew that he liked to be alone when he killed. He liked to savor the process. But Aidan couldn't leave him alone with his victims. He had been known to retreat into himself for months at a time after a kill.
And so he watched, as Draco watched. The silent man in the background, mesmerized by the sheer beauty of the situation.
*******
A/N: Okay, if you don't understand what I mean by 'beauty' of a kill, that's alright, it can be hard to understand. But, death does not have to be gruesome. And as you can see, Draco does not really like to kill. He is entranced and curious about death, but he doesn't really enjoy it. Well, chapter end! This story is shaping up to be a really long story. But that's okay. Anywho, drop me a review! Good, bad, whatever. Just let me know what you think! Suggestions? Please, do share! Questions? Ask away, I'll try and answer, but I'm not promising I can answer. Flames? Bring 'em on!
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters not mine-end of story, get it? Good. Aidan is mine. Rin is mine. Sesaru is mine. In fact, if you don't recognize them/it, IT"S MINE!
Warning: THIS STORY CONTAINS SLASH, HORRIBLE GRAMMAR, HORRIBLE PUNCTUATION, AND OTHER THINGS! IF THIS DISTURBS YOU, BEGONE!
This chapter is dedicated to: Brenna8! Brenna8, you're totally right, I hadn't even noticed the level of freedom Blaise is allowed! What a horrible thing for me to have overlooked! Well, we all know what will happen now! Read on, read on!
Chapter 6: Blaise's Demise
Draco drug Blaise down the hall by his shirtsleeve, muttering curses under his breath. "I'll be damned if he's 'alright'! He's so sleep-deprived it's not even funny."
Blaise said not a word, having to run to keep up with Draco. "Draco?" he asked quietly, slightly frightened. Draco didn't appear to have heard him, as he kept on walking, his curses growing more and more vile.
They passed many doors, and many halls, and Blaise began to feel lost. He was rather frightened of the large house, and really had no idea what direction they had came from. He didn't even know where the house was located, as Draco had paused partway through their journey to blindfold him and confiscate his wand. Blaise hadn't let go of that without a fight.
He had kept his fist clenched tightly around it, though he couldn't possibly fight them. His hands were tied together in front of him, and his ankles were bound together, merely leaving enough slack to allow him to walk on his own.
He had known that he would have to give in eventually, but he made sure they knew he would not be giving in to their every demand. When Draco had hit him again, knocking him to his knees, Blaise had tightened his grip on his wand, then hoping it wouldn't snap in half.
He had been hit and kicked numerous times, by Draco himself, as Harry had said he would take no part in Draco's discipline of his prisoner.
In the end it was the Cruciatus that loosened his grip on his wand. Though Draco would not merely leave it at that. He made Blaise stand and hand over the wand by himself, laughing at his repeated failures to struggle to his feet.
He had given Draco the wand, had watched with tears in his eyes as Draco had snapped it in half right in front of him. He had stared silently, ashamed to admit, even to himself, that Draco had defeated him yet again. He vowed that he would get back at him one day. He now found himself wondering if that day would ever come.
He was helpless without his wand, and Draco knew that. Perhaps that was why he was no longer bound. Blaise knew it did not matter whether or not he had the wand, Draco was much more powerful than he was. He always had been. At the current moment, Blaise didn't care a wit for his wand, or for where he was. He merely wanted to escape. He didn't care if he could tell Voldemort where the Forbidden were hiding, he didn't care if he would be hopelessly lost. He was scared for his life, knowing that it was only a matter of time before Draco remembered why he had spared him.
And when he did, the game was over. He would be dead, and none too quickly; judging from the temper Draco was in.
Thinking of Draco's temper, Blaise forced his mind back to the present. He once again found himself wondering if Draco had picked up on the hints that the tall blonde man had dropped. Somehow, Blaise doubted he had. Draco had never been real perceptive about anyone else's feelings.
Blaise was jerked abruptly out of his reverie by a sudden eruption of noise. He jerked his head up and glanced around, absorbing the sights and sounds. Draco drug him further into the massive room, ignoring the stares he received.
Draco had stopped his muttering, and replaced his frown with a smile. He shoved Blaise roughly into the nearest seat, telling him firmly to 'stay put or else'. Then he disappeared into the sea of people.
Blaise looked around hopefully, getting to his feet. He was startled when he was pushed back into the chair. Blaise whipped around to see who had stopped him, but found he did not recognize the beautiful woman before him.
She smiled at him and leaned in to whisper in his ear. "I would suggest you stay seated, we wouldn't want to hurry your death along, now would we? You and I both know how Draco can get when someone ignores a direct order." She whispered, her long red hair falling over her shoulder as she straightened back up to her full height.
Blaise stared at her, puzzled. "Who are you?" he asked. The woman did not answer; she merely turned and sat down, her eyes never leaving him.
********
Draco walked through the kitchen, laughing and nodding whenever he was spoken to, though he paid little attention to what they really said to him. He made his way through the people, towards the food.
He still couldn't believe how many people were there, even after nearly a year. He still didn't know everyone, nor did he really want to. He knew the people he had started out with, and a few key members of the Republic. The few key members of the Republic being the leaders, the people he was forced to speak with.
He never had been the socialist. He had never wanted to meet new people and 'broaden his horizons'. In fact, after the war, he had become something of a recluse, much to everyone's surprise. He had surprised himself by allowing himself to become friends with his former enemies, the Gryffindor's Wonder Trio.
He smiled as he remembered what had prompted him to move in here, where there was not a moment's peace, where there was always some disruption and chaos happening.
He shook himself and came back to the present, grabbing himself something to eat, and as an afterthought, Blaise as well. He walked back through the people to the table he had left Blaise at.
"Ah, Draco! I had heard you were back! About time too! Do you know how worried Ai---I mean, I was?" The red-head at the table asked, rising to her feet, and abruptly ignoring Blaise.
Draco set the food down calmly, and sat down in the nearest chair. "Mali, nice to see you too. I've already been to see Aidan, so don't bother preaching. Rather, he dragged me off to yell at me, but that's beside the point. What are you doing talking to Blaise?" he asked, pushing some of the food towards Blaise. "Eat. No use starving to death, that takes all the fun out of it you know." Draco addressed Blaise, not bothering to look at him.
The red-head sat as well. "I assume you covered up the investigation for us?" she asked, reaching across the table for a bite of Draco's food. Draco slapped her hand away, half of a smile on his face. "Of course, they'll forget about it in no time. But really, did we have to kill him? I'll kind of miss him." Draco said sadly. Mali looked slightly surprised, and paused with her hand half to her mouth. "YOU? Miss Remus? My my, becoming a bit soft now are we? What did you bring him," here she gestured at Blaise. "back here for? Tell me it wasn't just to kill him. Please tell me that."
There was a pause in the conversation, Mali waiting for Draco's response. "Um. Draco?" came the hesitant call. Draco turned his attention to Blaise. "What do you want?" he asked in annoyance. Blaise winced.
"I was just. That is. Nevermind. Forget it." he finished weakly, looking down at the table. Mali smiled in amusement. "D'y'know what? He tried to get away from us! I think you should just get rid of him now. It would simplify things a lot. And Aidan might ease up a bit. You know, someone needs to do something about him. He is seriously overworked, and he never stops either. I mean, I know this is a war of sorts, but----"
"Drop it Mali. He won't stop, you and I both know it, and there is nothing either of us can do about it. It's up to him to realize what needs to be done. Now, if you'll excuse me, Blaise and I will be leaving." Draco said harshly, a nasty expression fleeting across his face. He pushed the chair away from the table and stood, grabbing a hold of Blaise's shirt again and jerking him after him, parting the crowd of people like butter.
Mali stared after them, not sure what to think of him.
*******
"NO! Stop it! Don't you come any closer! Put that down! What are you doing? Draco! Draco stop it!" Blaise screamed in fear, trying to scramble away. His wrists were the only thing supporting him as he hung from the ceiling. The metal cuffs cut into his wrists, and drew blood. He watched as Draco drew closer, his knife raised. He stopped screaming as he realized nothing would be gained by it. He stopped struggling and merely hung where he was, tears trickling down his face. He sobbed silently, his body shaking.
He watched as the blood from his wrists trickled slowly down his arm. It was the only blood that had been drawn so far. In fact, he had been hanging from the ceiling for a little over an hour, watching Draco watch him, and crying with the agony of hanging from his wrists.
The pain was nothing but a dull ache now, and Blaise was tired of hanging. He watched with a dull interest as Draco came closer, his face serious. He watched as Draco drew his knife up, and slashed a small cut into his leg. He felt a sharp pain as the blood began to trickle out of the wound, and he whimpered. He glanced down at the cut, staring in wonder at the blood. He stared at Draco. "Why? Why not just kill me now?" he whispered sadly. Draco didn't respond. He raised the knife again, determined to make him scream. He slashed Blaise through the arm, on his stomach, and his leg again.
Blaise screamed in pain, and tried to writhe away. Draco stared at him, waiting for the screams to subside. Then he cut again, watching the blood run slowly down his body, watching the material from his clothes fall silently down to the ground. Watching as the first drop of blood hit the ground. He watched Blaise scream and writhe, he watched with disinterest as he tried to get away.
He cut again. And again. All the while, Blaise screamed, tears burning his eyes as they streamed out. Blaise cried out for mercy, he begged and pleaded.
*******
Some time later, Draco stood staring at Blaise, who was hanging by one wrist from the ceiling. The metal of the band around his wrist cut into the skin, cutting off the blood circulation to that hand. Blaise, however, was not exactly in the right frame of mind to notice.
In fact, it would have been dead scary if he had noticed, seeing as he was unconscious.
Blaise's body was covered from head to toe in small cuts and bruises. He was barely clothed, and shreds of his clothing lay scattered around on the floor under him.
After Draco stood there for a few moments, admiring his work, and savoring the silence, he walked over to where Blaise hung. He climbed up onto the chair behind Blaise and reached an arm gently around Blaise's body. He reached his other hand up to undo the binding that held Blaise up from the ground.
All of Blaise's weight fell on Draco's arm, and Draco leaned forward for a few seconds, before gracefully climbing down from the chair.
He carefully set Blaise down on the bloody ground and stood up, unsure of what to do with him, knowing he was not yet dead, yet also knowing he would likely die before the night was over.
The others found it amusing how kind he was to his victim's while they died. Draco knew he was merely doing as his father had raised him to do. No matter how cruel the torment, one should always be allowed to die as peacefully as possible. It was amazing how much he had looked up to his father, amazing how often his father had carried out his own word.
Draco sat down in the chair beside Blaise, admiring the way the blood trickled down his body. He was mesmerized by the way Blaise was breathing. He found himself drowning in the death, watching as the life slowly left his body.
He bent over, brushing his hand against Blaise's face, brushing away the blood.
Aidan watched this from the doorway, wondering what Draco found so amazing in the process of death. He watched, knowing that Draco always loved his victims in the end. He never left their side until they had truly died.
However, this did not mean he was not ruthless. Most of the time he killed quickly, though at times, when he was alone, he would draw out the process as long as he could.
Aidan knew that he liked to be alone when he killed. He liked to savor the process. But Aidan couldn't leave him alone with his victims. He had been known to retreat into himself for months at a time after a kill.
And so he watched, as Draco watched. The silent man in the background, mesmerized by the sheer beauty of the situation.
*******
A/N: Okay, if you don't understand what I mean by 'beauty' of a kill, that's alright, it can be hard to understand. But, death does not have to be gruesome. And as you can see, Draco does not really like to kill. He is entranced and curious about death, but he doesn't really enjoy it. Well, chapter end! This story is shaping up to be a really long story. But that's okay. Anywho, drop me a review! Good, bad, whatever. Just let me know what you think! Suggestions? Please, do share! Questions? Ask away, I'll try and answer, but I'm not promising I can answer. Flames? Bring 'em on!