Standard boring disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, I do not own Draco Malfoy, (although his 25 year old self is chained to a wall in my dungeon) Ginny Weasley or anything that is owned/operated or claimed by Warner Bros., or JK Rowling.
It's the funny thing about love, just when you'd given up and settled for second best or a life alone, never believing that lightning would strike, it turns up in the most unlikely of places.
Prologue
Malfoy Manor stood cold and aloof under an ominously black night, just as it had for centuries past. The house was fittingly darkened, lit only by the occasional torch or fireplace. The wind howled outside as sudden rainstorm pelted against the manor's windows and a lightning lit the façade for brief moments showing the gothic ornaments on it's peaks. The great mansion looked down with a haughty disdain upon the English countryside as far as it could be seen. The manor was has it had always been, so to Draco this night was inconsequential as any other he had passed in the sprawling residence. It was just another ordinary boring day alone in a cold dark house, with an even colder family. He sat sprawled on his great bed, reading a book he'd procured earlier from the Library. An epic tale of man, possessed with extraordinary ability to fight, the wisdom to rule and the predetermined destiny to set everything right again in a chaotic world. An odd story for the seventeen-year-old son of the most powerful death eater in all of England.
In the Library however a roaring fire warmed the room for the two occupants and a house-elf who busied herself serving an evening tea to the rooms cloaked occupants. In the Great Chair the highest place of honor in the Malfoy home sat the grotesque figure of the Dark Lord his face distorted his barely human figured regarded his most faithful servant with his undivided attention. Kneeling beside him Lucius was pledging one of his most prized possessions into service.
"My Lord, the Malfoy's are only here to serve you and the great cause. Whatever is required of us will be done."
"Good. Good." replied the crackling voice. The wind and rain again wished their presence known tossing another gale at the windowpanes drowning out the sound of the scurrying houselves.
"The boy must understand the importance of his mission to the cause." "If the girl cannot be turned, everything we have worked for will be lost." "There will not be a second chance for us this time." "The future heir is the key to the prophecy."
"My Lord, my son knows his place, your will, will be done."
It's the funny thing about love, just when you'd given up and settled for second best or a life alone, never believing that lightning would strike, it turns up in the most unlikely of places.
Prologue
Malfoy Manor stood cold and aloof under an ominously black night, just as it had for centuries past. The house was fittingly darkened, lit only by the occasional torch or fireplace. The wind howled outside as sudden rainstorm pelted against the manor's windows and a lightning lit the façade for brief moments showing the gothic ornaments on it's peaks. The great mansion looked down with a haughty disdain upon the English countryside as far as it could be seen. The manor was has it had always been, so to Draco this night was inconsequential as any other he had passed in the sprawling residence. It was just another ordinary boring day alone in a cold dark house, with an even colder family. He sat sprawled on his great bed, reading a book he'd procured earlier from the Library. An epic tale of man, possessed with extraordinary ability to fight, the wisdom to rule and the predetermined destiny to set everything right again in a chaotic world. An odd story for the seventeen-year-old son of the most powerful death eater in all of England.
In the Library however a roaring fire warmed the room for the two occupants and a house-elf who busied herself serving an evening tea to the rooms cloaked occupants. In the Great Chair the highest place of honor in the Malfoy home sat the grotesque figure of the Dark Lord his face distorted his barely human figured regarded his most faithful servant with his undivided attention. Kneeling beside him Lucius was pledging one of his most prized possessions into service.
"My Lord, the Malfoy's are only here to serve you and the great cause. Whatever is required of us will be done."
"Good. Good." replied the crackling voice. The wind and rain again wished their presence known tossing another gale at the windowpanes drowning out the sound of the scurrying houselves.
"The boy must understand the importance of his mission to the cause." "If the girl cannot be turned, everything we have worked for will be lost." "There will not be a second chance for us this time." "The future heir is the key to the prophecy."
"My Lord, my son knows his place, your will, will be done."