Prologue ~ Cancer: One Incurable Curse Of Magic
A/N: This is a prologue to my next story (hopefully). I'm setting the
prologue cause I want to know if anyone likes it. If you do, I will make a
story leading up to the whole role of the story. The original characters
all belong to the great J.K. Rowling. But the new ones are mine. Please
read.
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Seven worn looking people were sprawled out in from of a hospital room in a
secluded part of St. Mungo's reserved for people with diseases even magic
couldn't even cure. Like cancer for one.
The door of the room opened and a white robed Medi-Witch came out with a grave expression on her bespectacled face.
The only one of the seven who wasn't asleep stood up and at her beckon to follow her down the hall, he did. He was tall, lanky and had clean-cut black hair, ice blue eyes and high cheekbones. Once they were a safe distance from the sleeping others, she began to speak. "Mr. Malfoy," she began/ "your brother is stable for the moment. If there is any unfinished business such as wills, legal matters, etc., you need to have them taken care of. Also, if there are any relatives or friends that want to say good-bye, they need to do so as soon as possible. It's very likely that he will not be with us by this time tomorrow. We've done all we can. I'm terribly sorry." She touched him gently on the shoulder before she turned on her heel and walked back down the corridor. The man sighed and mussed his normally immaculate hair walking back down the hall towards his brother's room. He studied the six, currently sleeping other people. His eyes scanned the form of his wife. Her ever-bushy brown hair pulled back in a messy bun propped up against a pale redheaded man who was snoring quietly. Next to the redhead was another man. His fiancée, Jaime Vito, new in the wizarding world on accident when he had sent his neighbor flying straight into a tree. He had dark green eyes, black hair so dark that it looked like a mass of never-ending darkness. On the other side of his wife was a messy black haired man with a lightening bolt scar barely visible beneath his bangs. Curled up in that mans arms was a petite redheaded woman with pale skin and freckles. The most important people in his life, save one, Draco Malfoy. The one who was in that very hospital room dying, wasting away with cancer. Clearly in his mind was the memory of the day when they told him there was nothing they could do for him. He was too far-gone. He'd already lasted far too longer than they had expected. Every medi-wizard they had come across had said they never had seen anything like it. By all means he should be dead, two years go in fact. It was hope that kept him going. Hope that she would be back to him. He'd been hoping for twenty years. Sighing again, the man glanced at his friends again and entered his brother's room. No matter how long it had been to see him, that way always hurt. Draco's once handsome face was grave and wraith like. His high sharp cheekbones jutted out of his thin face and his brilliant gray eyes appeared dim and sunken. His pale skin was almost translucent and they had put an IV drip in his arm and it was red and irritated. He continued into the room and pulled a chair up to the bed. He watched the steady rise and fall of his brother's shallow breaths. As he watched he felt a familiar prickle in the corner of his eyes. He tried to suck it up, the tears fell freely. "That's very unlike a Malfoy," came a quiet sarcastic drawl. He looked up at the half smirking man in the bed in front of him. "How ya feeling?" he asked already knowing the answer. To be perfectly honest, I feel like shit," he said grimacing and he attempted to shift position. "Where are the others?" he asked. "They're asleep in the hall." "Damn them and their blatant Gryffindor selves," he sighed. "I told them to go home and get some rest." "Well they're resting just not at home. You should see them. They're almost dog piled." He said smiling. Draco looked thoughtful for a moment, kind of far off. Then he spoke. "Its amazing really. That they're here. I mean if you were to tell me twenty-two years ago that the "golden trio" and the Weaslette would be sleeping in a hospital hallway worried for me, I would have thought you were stark raring mad! But then again, a lot has happened that I would have never dreamed possible." He said going quiet with that far off look again. He usually did anyway. "Leander," Draco said, "Go home, and tell them to do the same. This is completely ridiculous." Leander looked at his brother's stubborn expression and shook his head. "Are you sure?" he asked him, again knowing the answer. "Yes brother dearest, I am very sure. Tell those gits to go home. I'm not going anywhere. I'll rest, you'll rest. Ill see you all tomorrow afternoon ok? "Fine then, be that way," he replied sarcastically standing up. He squeezed his brother's hand in farewell and left the room. They were all still asleep. "Hey guys," he said bending down to shake them all awake. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*Draco's P.O.V*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* I don't get why they're so damn worried. So what if those quack medi- wizards say I'm about to kick the bucket? They obviously don't know me very well. You don't tell me I'm going to do something, I don't take orders. (Something my 'father' and Voldemort couldn't seem to grasp.) I'm not going anywhere until I see her again. Just once is all I ask. Then I'll give it up. The pain is noticeably worse than it was mere hours ago. No matter how determined I am, my body doesn't share the same sentiments much longer. She had best get her rear in gear. She said we'd meet again...I can still smell her fragrance...just like it was yesterday she left me. When in reality it was twenty-three years. My how time flies...
The door of the room opened and a white robed Medi-Witch came out with a grave expression on her bespectacled face.
The only one of the seven who wasn't asleep stood up and at her beckon to follow her down the hall, he did. He was tall, lanky and had clean-cut black hair, ice blue eyes and high cheekbones. Once they were a safe distance from the sleeping others, she began to speak. "Mr. Malfoy," she began/ "your brother is stable for the moment. If there is any unfinished business such as wills, legal matters, etc., you need to have them taken care of. Also, if there are any relatives or friends that want to say good-bye, they need to do so as soon as possible. It's very likely that he will not be with us by this time tomorrow. We've done all we can. I'm terribly sorry." She touched him gently on the shoulder before she turned on her heel and walked back down the corridor. The man sighed and mussed his normally immaculate hair walking back down the hall towards his brother's room. He studied the six, currently sleeping other people. His eyes scanned the form of his wife. Her ever-bushy brown hair pulled back in a messy bun propped up against a pale redheaded man who was snoring quietly. Next to the redhead was another man. His fiancée, Jaime Vito, new in the wizarding world on accident when he had sent his neighbor flying straight into a tree. He had dark green eyes, black hair so dark that it looked like a mass of never-ending darkness. On the other side of his wife was a messy black haired man with a lightening bolt scar barely visible beneath his bangs. Curled up in that mans arms was a petite redheaded woman with pale skin and freckles. The most important people in his life, save one, Draco Malfoy. The one who was in that very hospital room dying, wasting away with cancer. Clearly in his mind was the memory of the day when they told him there was nothing they could do for him. He was too far-gone. He'd already lasted far too longer than they had expected. Every medi-wizard they had come across had said they never had seen anything like it. By all means he should be dead, two years go in fact. It was hope that kept him going. Hope that she would be back to him. He'd been hoping for twenty years. Sighing again, the man glanced at his friends again and entered his brother's room. No matter how long it had been to see him, that way always hurt. Draco's once handsome face was grave and wraith like. His high sharp cheekbones jutted out of his thin face and his brilliant gray eyes appeared dim and sunken. His pale skin was almost translucent and they had put an IV drip in his arm and it was red and irritated. He continued into the room and pulled a chair up to the bed. He watched the steady rise and fall of his brother's shallow breaths. As he watched he felt a familiar prickle in the corner of his eyes. He tried to suck it up, the tears fell freely. "That's very unlike a Malfoy," came a quiet sarcastic drawl. He looked up at the half smirking man in the bed in front of him. "How ya feeling?" he asked already knowing the answer. To be perfectly honest, I feel like shit," he said grimacing and he attempted to shift position. "Where are the others?" he asked. "They're asleep in the hall." "Damn them and their blatant Gryffindor selves," he sighed. "I told them to go home and get some rest." "Well they're resting just not at home. You should see them. They're almost dog piled." He said smiling. Draco looked thoughtful for a moment, kind of far off. Then he spoke. "Its amazing really. That they're here. I mean if you were to tell me twenty-two years ago that the "golden trio" and the Weaslette would be sleeping in a hospital hallway worried for me, I would have thought you were stark raring mad! But then again, a lot has happened that I would have never dreamed possible." He said going quiet with that far off look again. He usually did anyway. "Leander," Draco said, "Go home, and tell them to do the same. This is completely ridiculous." Leander looked at his brother's stubborn expression and shook his head. "Are you sure?" he asked him, again knowing the answer. "Yes brother dearest, I am very sure. Tell those gits to go home. I'm not going anywhere. I'll rest, you'll rest. Ill see you all tomorrow afternoon ok? "Fine then, be that way," he replied sarcastically standing up. He squeezed his brother's hand in farewell and left the room. They were all still asleep. "Hey guys," he said bending down to shake them all awake. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*Draco's P.O.V*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* I don't get why they're so damn worried. So what if those quack medi- wizards say I'm about to kick the bucket? They obviously don't know me very well. You don't tell me I'm going to do something, I don't take orders. (Something my 'father' and Voldemort couldn't seem to grasp.) I'm not going anywhere until I see her again. Just once is all I ask. Then I'll give it up. The pain is noticeably worse than it was mere hours ago. No matter how determined I am, my body doesn't share the same sentiments much longer. She had best get her rear in gear. She said we'd meet again...I can still smell her fragrance...just like it was yesterday she left me. When in reality it was twenty-three years. My how time flies...
