A/N: geez people. . .really breaking the bank there. . . 1 friggin review!!
What the $#@$ is that!? _. . .ne. . . least it wasn't a flame I guess. .
. but still!!! Come on people?! Oh, I know I got really short chapters but
I'll try and make em longer from now. Pls pls. . . just review. . . you
know. . . that little button in the corner. . .??
Chapter 2: Travel Alone ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was still early in the morning so he was guaranteed no meetings with his parents. As he padded silently down the halls to his kitchens he was once again reminded of his fate. Pictures of all his descendants and underneath each one a plaque detailing their deeds.
Pfft, more like their conquests. What he'd give for a barrel of napalm. . .Walking into the dining hall he saw the great vaulted chamber, a useless waste of space really but nonetheless impressive to anybody. Ignoring the huge, huge, huge dining table, with three seats. . .he went off to the kitchens where he saw one elf. Knobby ( why the hell do they have such stupid names huh?!), the replacement elf was right now trying his best to balance the tray with his bandaged fingers. No doubt the result of some great misdeed like closing the door too loudly or having a crinkle in his fathers robes. Almost pitiful.
As the elf passed he saw an almost fearful look cross the elf's features. Hours passed before his father and mother awoke, by then he was seriously contemplating putting laxative in their foods for taking their damn time. As he sat down he stared at his mother.
She spared him a small nervous grin before returning to her food with the same sad expression she always had on. He often wandered about his mother. There was no doubts she was forced to marry his father. . . after all, they couldn't be less alike and if they were he'd already be a fully fledged death eater. No, in some ways she was in a worse off position. She wore a long sleeve sweater but it wasn't a fashion statement, it was to hide the bruises and cuts.
It had been chance that let him saw it and even she did not know. But undoubtedly his fathers doing. Probably resisting him. He wandered if she was against his becoming a death eater. Probably, women were like that. Thinking about it, she was often the one that take care of him after the floggings he sometimes had at his fathers hands. Once again he thought that it'd be nice if it were just the two of them. No expectations . . . no duties. . .just freedom. . . Bah useless dreams.
Going back to the present, he and his father made his way to the carriage and waiting driver. They strode into the carriage's lush interior, all leather and mahogany. He would never have to wonder what he'd look like when he was older, same nose, same hair, same face. The only thing that distinguished them were their eyes really. While his fathers were a dark blue his was often a sort of grayish green.
"I hope you are prepared for this year", said his father, snapping him out his revere.
"What do you mean", he replied in a guarded tone.
"Well you are surely not making the most of yourself are you? Average in almost everything and only managing any real sort of success in potions" He leaned forward," This is what separates us from those muggles, our magic! But you should know what is outside this world Draco, you have a destiny to serve the dark lord! And I must tell y-"
"Let me guess, the dark lord has no patience for idiots?". He interrupted. For a moment he stared defiantly at his father before he felt his father's velvet covered hands grasped firmly around his throat.
"I will tell you this once boy". His father hissed, ignoring the gasps of pain from his son "Insolence to me will not bring you any sort of victory and if you were not my only son I would curse you till you begged for death! But, there is hope. So listen carefully. Never, interrupt me and never assume. Or else you will sorely regret it." Throwing him to the side of the carriage he surveyed his son for a moment before looking out the window.
Draco's POV ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
SONOFABITCH! THE SONOFABITCH!! Anger coursed trough him like a dam breaking its banks. How dare he!! Oh how I wish I could torture him so. . . punch that superior look off his face and make him watch as I fed his dismembered limbs to those infernal fire blasting creatures of that damn gamekeeper! How I wish he could just kill him and be done with it. . .
I straighten myself in the carriage and look at him through narrowed eyes. I'm still trembling with hate but I control myself. There would be a time when I'm out from under his thumb. . . and then. . . then we'll see what type of victory my insolence will bring me!
I stare outside the carriage window but not really seeing the English countryside. What I see in my mind is my life and how my father has affected and most of all, what I'd like to do to him. But I can afford to wait. I will be patient till that time comes. When I'll strike at him with such fury that we'll see who begs for death. Then we'll see. . .
Lucious's POV ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Really, what an idiot. What can he possibly hope to achieve,'If you cannot defeat him then do not confront him'. Another saying passed down through generations. And yet still such insolence. Of course his son had no idea, that much was clear from his actions but nonetheless, such respect.
And only average talent too. Still, he did show some small amount of promise. After all, the training he had endured since he was young coupled with a life of almost no sentimental or otherwise emotionless experiences would make him an ideal death eater. Of course there was still that small trouble with his rebelliousness but that could be cured.
He sighed, why were brats such trouble?
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
The station was not so crowded at such a time but not really the best place for a horse drawn carriage. Pulling up, the driver helped Draco with his luggage and bowing shortly moved away. His father had still not left the carriage but merely looked through the door of the still open door.
"I expect much better this year. . . do not forget who you are" he said coldly through the open door. Then with a wave the door snapped shut and he took off without another word.
Pushing his trolley Draco pushed it through the crowds of people, still feeling his hate and malice, how it seemed to pour out of his very skin. He saw others look at him occasionally and flinch away from his gaze, but all it told him was that he was above them all, and they would never know.
Steering into Hogwarts platform he couldn't help but feel grateful that he had such a refuge away from his father and in a sense had some sense of superiority over there. He was still early so it wasn't very crowded. Finding his own carriage proved no problem and after struggling with his trunks sat down still thinking.
In many ways he dreaded school like so many others, after all, what useless stuff they taught there, I mean, who would ever find the use of making eggs do cartwheels. . . or turning frogs into rocks. . .? But he would be a fool or else very stoned to say he enjoyed his fathers company instead.
Suddenly he realized people were calling his name and with a jerk saw not only his two lackeys Crabbe and Goyle but that annoying bitch Parkinson. Contrary to what most people thought they were not exactly friends. After all, who could call those two dimwitted fools and a bitch with the voice of a banshee friends? They merely followed him for no other reason then they knew he was going places and because of his family.
"Draco! Yo! Draco! You alright" Crabbe practically shouted next to my face.
"WHAT?!" he snapped
"umm. . .nothing, nevermind" he muttered back. All three of them looked dumbfounded, while Crabbe merely shrugged his shoulders and Goyle looked confused. Pansy however soon returned to her normal self walking over to where he was and started babbling on out about her holidays:
"Ahhh! Draco, the holidays were so boring, did you get my invitation? It was so boring with all those damn village girls" she said with a sneer. And on and on and on she went, telling her story as though it her voice was the source of life itself. Pfft, well not like you could tell by looking at Crabbe and Goyle, after all, they're faces didn't offer much in the way of facial expressions.
"Pansy, as absolutely uninterested I am in your reiteration of your holidays even you should know when someone is completely ignoring you. But. . . you don't which is rather sad." said Draco his voice dripping with contempt. Striding past them he went in search of a quieter carriage.
Walking down past the wood paneled rooms he saw people jumping around, talking, lazing around just enjoying themselves and he wondered just why their lives were so different. How did his life come to where it was, why was he stuck with such with fawning lackeys instead of genuine people who he could laugh and be happy with. . .
Walking past he saw the Potter group. Laughing and talking they chatted happily as though they didn't have a care in the world, well. . . why would they be worried, after all, just another year at school. Pfft, what did they know.
Finally finding one far enough from the sugar high first yrs he slipped into the empty carriage. Going in he was at least happy to know that none of his 'friends' would come in to bother him. Thick as they were even they knew not to pursue him now. Setting himself back he took out one of his presents. It was smooth and round, sort of like a flattened out sphere but not too thick. In a small space were two small earphones that were not attached to the actual instrument. The contraption had been a gift from a distant uncle, one of the ones who he could get along with in one of his fathers grand parties. It was in a way a cross between what the muggles called a discman and a recording device. The contraption had one side covered in script but the other was smooth. On this side he would trace out words so that whatever song recorded on the machine could be played back. If he wished to record all he had to was leave it next to where the song was being played and then trace out the word "record" and when finished "done". By leaving it next to witch and muggle radios for many weeks he soon had a huge collection.
Putting his feet up on the seat he relaxed back and stared out the window.
Will you, walk me to the edge again, Shaking, lonely, and I am drinking again Woke up tonight and no ones here with me,
I'm giving in to you, take me under I'm giving in to you, I'm dying tonight I'm giving in to you, watch me crumble I'm giving in to you, I'm crying to you I'm giving in to you.
Caught in life, losing all my friends, Family has tried to cure all my addictions, Tragic it seems to be alone again
I'm giving in to you, take me under I'm giving in to you, I'm dying tonight I'm giving in to you, watch me crumble I'm giving in to you, I'm crying to you I'm giving in to you I look forward to dying tonight, Drink all to myself Life's harder everyday The stress has got me I'm giving in, giving in giving in . . .
He was interrupted by a voice cutting through the lyrics. Tugging out his earphones he looked up at a girl not his age. Dressed in a pair of khaki pants and a red tank top she wasn't too bad. Her hair was tied up into a knot but you could tell it was long and sort of a really nice red brown colour. Her eyes were a deep brown/black colour.
"Hey, you waiting for anybody or is it free" she said rather abruptly.
"Nup, its free" he replied in a nonchalant voice. She went to the other side and imitating him put her feet on the couch while leaning against the back of the carriage. Taking out a book she just sat and began to read intently. Shaking his head slightly with bewilderment he merely put his earphones back on and immersed himself into the English background, losing himself in the lyrics of various bands that talked of what they didn't understand.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Slightly longer this time but with almost no action. I know I know but hey, my story ladies and gentleman, take it or leave it. Been a while since I updated but hols has ended and all so not so much time to write. Please please please review otherwise I will scream and curse and continue a horrible story and none of ya would like that ne? oh, Linkin Park rules! No competition people, the lyrics I wrote down are probably wrong but who cares, from 'giving in'. I love them, listen to their songs cos they are simply the best. But 'Adams song' by Blink 182 ain't too bad either.
Chapter 2: Travel Alone ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was still early in the morning so he was guaranteed no meetings with his parents. As he padded silently down the halls to his kitchens he was once again reminded of his fate. Pictures of all his descendants and underneath each one a plaque detailing their deeds.
Pfft, more like their conquests. What he'd give for a barrel of napalm. . .Walking into the dining hall he saw the great vaulted chamber, a useless waste of space really but nonetheless impressive to anybody. Ignoring the huge, huge, huge dining table, with three seats. . .he went off to the kitchens where he saw one elf. Knobby ( why the hell do they have such stupid names huh?!), the replacement elf was right now trying his best to balance the tray with his bandaged fingers. No doubt the result of some great misdeed like closing the door too loudly or having a crinkle in his fathers robes. Almost pitiful.
As the elf passed he saw an almost fearful look cross the elf's features. Hours passed before his father and mother awoke, by then he was seriously contemplating putting laxative in their foods for taking their damn time. As he sat down he stared at his mother.
She spared him a small nervous grin before returning to her food with the same sad expression she always had on. He often wandered about his mother. There was no doubts she was forced to marry his father. . . after all, they couldn't be less alike and if they were he'd already be a fully fledged death eater. No, in some ways she was in a worse off position. She wore a long sleeve sweater but it wasn't a fashion statement, it was to hide the bruises and cuts.
It had been chance that let him saw it and even she did not know. But undoubtedly his fathers doing. Probably resisting him. He wandered if she was against his becoming a death eater. Probably, women were like that. Thinking about it, she was often the one that take care of him after the floggings he sometimes had at his fathers hands. Once again he thought that it'd be nice if it were just the two of them. No expectations . . . no duties. . .just freedom. . . Bah useless dreams.
Going back to the present, he and his father made his way to the carriage and waiting driver. They strode into the carriage's lush interior, all leather and mahogany. He would never have to wonder what he'd look like when he was older, same nose, same hair, same face. The only thing that distinguished them were their eyes really. While his fathers were a dark blue his was often a sort of grayish green.
"I hope you are prepared for this year", said his father, snapping him out his revere.
"What do you mean", he replied in a guarded tone.
"Well you are surely not making the most of yourself are you? Average in almost everything and only managing any real sort of success in potions" He leaned forward," This is what separates us from those muggles, our magic! But you should know what is outside this world Draco, you have a destiny to serve the dark lord! And I must tell y-"
"Let me guess, the dark lord has no patience for idiots?". He interrupted. For a moment he stared defiantly at his father before he felt his father's velvet covered hands grasped firmly around his throat.
"I will tell you this once boy". His father hissed, ignoring the gasps of pain from his son "Insolence to me will not bring you any sort of victory and if you were not my only son I would curse you till you begged for death! But, there is hope. So listen carefully. Never, interrupt me and never assume. Or else you will sorely regret it." Throwing him to the side of the carriage he surveyed his son for a moment before looking out the window.
Draco's POV ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
SONOFABITCH! THE SONOFABITCH!! Anger coursed trough him like a dam breaking its banks. How dare he!! Oh how I wish I could torture him so. . . punch that superior look off his face and make him watch as I fed his dismembered limbs to those infernal fire blasting creatures of that damn gamekeeper! How I wish he could just kill him and be done with it. . .
I straighten myself in the carriage and look at him through narrowed eyes. I'm still trembling with hate but I control myself. There would be a time when I'm out from under his thumb. . . and then. . . then we'll see what type of victory my insolence will bring me!
I stare outside the carriage window but not really seeing the English countryside. What I see in my mind is my life and how my father has affected and most of all, what I'd like to do to him. But I can afford to wait. I will be patient till that time comes. When I'll strike at him with such fury that we'll see who begs for death. Then we'll see. . .
Lucious's POV ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Really, what an idiot. What can he possibly hope to achieve,'If you cannot defeat him then do not confront him'. Another saying passed down through generations. And yet still such insolence. Of course his son had no idea, that much was clear from his actions but nonetheless, such respect.
And only average talent too. Still, he did show some small amount of promise. After all, the training he had endured since he was young coupled with a life of almost no sentimental or otherwise emotionless experiences would make him an ideal death eater. Of course there was still that small trouble with his rebelliousness but that could be cured.
He sighed, why were brats such trouble?
@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@
The station was not so crowded at such a time but not really the best place for a horse drawn carriage. Pulling up, the driver helped Draco with his luggage and bowing shortly moved away. His father had still not left the carriage but merely looked through the door of the still open door.
"I expect much better this year. . . do not forget who you are" he said coldly through the open door. Then with a wave the door snapped shut and he took off without another word.
Pushing his trolley Draco pushed it through the crowds of people, still feeling his hate and malice, how it seemed to pour out of his very skin. He saw others look at him occasionally and flinch away from his gaze, but all it told him was that he was above them all, and they would never know.
Steering into Hogwarts platform he couldn't help but feel grateful that he had such a refuge away from his father and in a sense had some sense of superiority over there. He was still early so it wasn't very crowded. Finding his own carriage proved no problem and after struggling with his trunks sat down still thinking.
In many ways he dreaded school like so many others, after all, what useless stuff they taught there, I mean, who would ever find the use of making eggs do cartwheels. . . or turning frogs into rocks. . .? But he would be a fool or else very stoned to say he enjoyed his fathers company instead.
Suddenly he realized people were calling his name and with a jerk saw not only his two lackeys Crabbe and Goyle but that annoying bitch Parkinson. Contrary to what most people thought they were not exactly friends. After all, who could call those two dimwitted fools and a bitch with the voice of a banshee friends? They merely followed him for no other reason then they knew he was going places and because of his family.
"Draco! Yo! Draco! You alright" Crabbe practically shouted next to my face.
"WHAT?!" he snapped
"umm. . .nothing, nevermind" he muttered back. All three of them looked dumbfounded, while Crabbe merely shrugged his shoulders and Goyle looked confused. Pansy however soon returned to her normal self walking over to where he was and started babbling on out about her holidays:
"Ahhh! Draco, the holidays were so boring, did you get my invitation? It was so boring with all those damn village girls" she said with a sneer. And on and on and on she went, telling her story as though it her voice was the source of life itself. Pfft, well not like you could tell by looking at Crabbe and Goyle, after all, they're faces didn't offer much in the way of facial expressions.
"Pansy, as absolutely uninterested I am in your reiteration of your holidays even you should know when someone is completely ignoring you. But. . . you don't which is rather sad." said Draco his voice dripping with contempt. Striding past them he went in search of a quieter carriage.
Walking down past the wood paneled rooms he saw people jumping around, talking, lazing around just enjoying themselves and he wondered just why their lives were so different. How did his life come to where it was, why was he stuck with such with fawning lackeys instead of genuine people who he could laugh and be happy with. . .
Walking past he saw the Potter group. Laughing and talking they chatted happily as though they didn't have a care in the world, well. . . why would they be worried, after all, just another year at school. Pfft, what did they know.
Finally finding one far enough from the sugar high first yrs he slipped into the empty carriage. Going in he was at least happy to know that none of his 'friends' would come in to bother him. Thick as they were even they knew not to pursue him now. Setting himself back he took out one of his presents. It was smooth and round, sort of like a flattened out sphere but not too thick. In a small space were two small earphones that were not attached to the actual instrument. The contraption had been a gift from a distant uncle, one of the ones who he could get along with in one of his fathers grand parties. It was in a way a cross between what the muggles called a discman and a recording device. The contraption had one side covered in script but the other was smooth. On this side he would trace out words so that whatever song recorded on the machine could be played back. If he wished to record all he had to was leave it next to where the song was being played and then trace out the word "record" and when finished "done". By leaving it next to witch and muggle radios for many weeks he soon had a huge collection.
Putting his feet up on the seat he relaxed back and stared out the window.
Will you, walk me to the edge again, Shaking, lonely, and I am drinking again Woke up tonight and no ones here with me,
I'm giving in to you, take me under I'm giving in to you, I'm dying tonight I'm giving in to you, watch me crumble I'm giving in to you, I'm crying to you I'm giving in to you.
Caught in life, losing all my friends, Family has tried to cure all my addictions, Tragic it seems to be alone again
I'm giving in to you, take me under I'm giving in to you, I'm dying tonight I'm giving in to you, watch me crumble I'm giving in to you, I'm crying to you I'm giving in to you I look forward to dying tonight, Drink all to myself Life's harder everyday The stress has got me I'm giving in, giving in giving in . . .
He was interrupted by a voice cutting through the lyrics. Tugging out his earphones he looked up at a girl not his age. Dressed in a pair of khaki pants and a red tank top she wasn't too bad. Her hair was tied up into a knot but you could tell it was long and sort of a really nice red brown colour. Her eyes were a deep brown/black colour.
"Hey, you waiting for anybody or is it free" she said rather abruptly.
"Nup, its free" he replied in a nonchalant voice. She went to the other side and imitating him put her feet on the couch while leaning against the back of the carriage. Taking out a book she just sat and began to read intently. Shaking his head slightly with bewilderment he merely put his earphones back on and immersed himself into the English background, losing himself in the lyrics of various bands that talked of what they didn't understand.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Slightly longer this time but with almost no action. I know I know but hey, my story ladies and gentleman, take it or leave it. Been a while since I updated but hols has ended and all so not so much time to write. Please please please review otherwise I will scream and curse and continue a horrible story and none of ya would like that ne? oh, Linkin Park rules! No competition people, the lyrics I wrote down are probably wrong but who cares, from 'giving in'. I love them, listen to their songs cos they are simply the best. But 'Adams song' by Blink 182 ain't too bad either.
