Title: Fated
Author: Miss T
Rating: R
Genre: Angst/Romance/Dark/Fluff/Muuuuuush!
Warnings: Slash, Character Death, Violence
Pairings: Draco/Harry
Timeline: 7th year
A/N: This is my first attempt at something a bit darker to my previous fics – its not incredibly dark right enough, but it does have death in it and a lot of violence and drug references so… *shrugs* oo, and some sexual situations between two guys. So if that offends you, don't read! Consider yourself warned! Oh, and this story has been based on a sort of Romeo/Juliet (mostly from the movie) romance type… thing. :)
A/N2: another warning – hitting and abuse
CHAPTER 7 – I Would Die For You
//I would die for you… I would die for you…
I would wash away your pain with all my tears… and drown your fears//
"Draco, I gather that you know fine well why I arranged this meeting between us." Narcissa sniffed as she sipped gently at her cup of tea, letting the saucer rest lightly on her lap as she sat on the chair at Draco's desk.
"I don't actually, Mother, care to enlighten me?" Draco said rather irritably, rubbing at his temples as he sat on the edge of his bed – sheets still tainted and unmade with the nights events.
"I was very disappointed when Miss Parkinson told me she had no idea you had proposed to her. In fact, she had no idea because you didn't ACTUALLY propose to her, Draco." Narcissa said, her features going sharp as she pursed her lips together.
"Oh no… I didn't?" Draco said sarcastically, trying his best to sound shocked.
Narcissa flared her nostrils and ignored her son. "That is why I decided to arrange it myself, son." She said, her voice turning quite smug.
"You did WHAT?" Draco boomed, standing up.
"Calm down, Draco." She said lightly, placing her tea on the desk. "I simply told Miss Parkinson you are desperate to wed, and she seemed positively over the moon, my dear." Narcissa smiled, though Draco thought it was far from genuine.
He felt his face twitch as he sat back down, idly rubbing at the pendant of Harry's necklace. "When?" He croaked.
"Next Thursday." Narcissa smiled.
Draco felt his blood run cold. His heart began beating wildly in his throat, a small trickle of sweat ran down his temple.
"What?" He whispered. "But… but it's so soon!"
"Precisely!" Narcissa snorted. "To make sure you don't go running off with anyone else, boy – I know what you're like with your fairy tale fantasies, and I wouldn't be surprised if you swing to the other side of the lake, but this way I know that we can carry on the Malfoy name very soon."
Draco panicked. *Harry…* He thought, screwing his eyes tight and breathing hard. *I'm not marrying that insufferable wench! I'M IN LOVE WITH HARRY!! Yeah, bet THAT would come to a shock to you, Mother! Me in love with the Boy Who Lived. Wait… did she just insinuate that I am gay…?*
"Draco what on earth are you doing?" Narcissa sniffed, looking at her son.
Draco opened his eyes and sighed raggedly. "Please, Mother. I can't marry her. It's too soon."
"Tell that to your father." Narcissa sneered, standing up sharply as the door clicked open.
Draco stood up and stepped back a little, staring wide eyed at his father's taller form, cane in hand, smarmy grin in place.
"Have you told Draco the news?" Lucius said, looking at his wife.
"Yes, my love. He thanks you." Narcissa smiled, glancing at Draco and looking back up at her husband who closed the door firmly. "I pity the fool who marries his grave." She sneered, and Draco felt his heart stop.
Lucius sharply turned his head to Draco, his smile disappearing into a sharp frown. "Oh?" He sneered, stepping in closer to his son.
Draco winced and stepped backwards again, clasping onto the bed post behind him.
"Aren't you grateful, boy?" Lucius said, his voice dangerously low. "Thankful that we have found you a perfectly good pureblood to carry on the family name? ARE YOU NOT PROUD?!" He roared, lifting his cane into the air.
"Not proud that you have, but thankful that you have!" Draco shouted through tears. "PROUD CAN I NEVER BE OF WHAT I HATE!" he yelled, his voice cracking, thick with tears.
Lucius grabbed his shoulders at this point, growling into the air and throwing Draco across the other side of the room. Draco watched stars etch the side of his vision as he landed with a slump against the wall onto the floor.
"Do NOT talk to me like that BOY!!" Lucius snarled, advancing on Draco and wrapping his fingers around his son's throat, throttling him hard, oblivious to the muffled screams from Narcissa.
Draco screamed as loud as he could, but found that all he could produce were thick gurgles and whimpers under the pressure of Lucius' hands.
"You WILL be proud of the Malfoy name, I'll make sure of that, boy!" Lucius yelled, shaking his son's shoulders back and forth, causing his head to knock a few sickening times against the wall.
Draco yelped in pain, his eyes overflowing with tears making his face sticky and hot, his nose and mouth drenched in wetness as he panted, whimpering at his father's force.
Lucius finally stopped shaking Draco, but continued to grip onto his shoulders. "You better make sure you are at the altar on Thursday, boy." He spat, his eyes ablaze. "Or never even think about looking at me again." With one final shake that caused Draco's head to bash violently against the wall, Lucius whipped onto his feet, straightening his robes and gripping onto his cane, and made his way out of the door with a loud bang.
Draco panted heavily for a few seconds, and glanced over at his Mother who was standing next to the window. At once, he burst into hysterical tears, crawling to his feet towards Narcissa, who continued to stare out of the window, red tear stains marring her features.
"Please…" He pleaded, blinking through his tears. "Please, Mother – don't allow me to do this! Give it a month!" Draco cried, wringing his hands. "A week… or prepare yourself to arrange another coffin for the tomb where Blaise lies…" He sobbed, landing on his knees in front of Narcissa.
"Don't speak to me." Narcissa spat, looking down her nose at Draco. "For I will not speak a word. Do what you want. I've finished with you." She said rather apathetically, before walking out of the door, and closing it again with a loud bang.
"Oh… God…" Draco whimpered, letting fresh tears run down his face as he slumped onto the ground, burying his face into his hands.
~~~*~~~
Hermione sat at her usual spot in the library, pining over a large pile of books, wearing her usual frown of concentration.
That's why Draco Malfoy knew it would be easy to find her.
Sighing and flicking a page over, Hermione scratched her head lightly, trying not to let her thoughts about Harry and Ron overshadow her. If she did, there would be no light left and she would drown in darkness.
Sniffing sharply, she perked her head up. She could have sworn she heard someone's footsteps. *You're worse than Filch, girl.* She told herself, looking back down at her book.
Hermione almost jumped out of her skin when two hands came slamming down on the desk in front of her.
"Granger!" Draco said breathlessly, his trademark pale cheeks red and blotchy, his hair and clothes dishevelled as he leaned over the desk, boring his eyes into Hermione with absolute desperation.
Hermione gasped and struck a hand to her own mouth, causing her chair to roll back slightly. The site was unreal – Draco's eyes were ablaze with fire, his lips trembling, his eyebrows knitted into a deep frown.
"I can't do it, Granger!" Draco whimpered, grabbing onto Hermione's shoulders and pulling her onto her feet, leading her to the corner between the deserted bookshelves.
Hermione trembled and winced under Draco's forcefulness, and she strained herself to speak in a whisper. "Can't do what, Malfoy?!"
Draco let go of her, suddenly fumbling in the pockets of his robes. "Marry her! I CAN'T! My… my Mother is making me marry that insolent BITCH Parkinson… and… I can't…" He was in tears, still searching his pockets.
"You're in love with Harry." Hermione said flatly, her eyes wandering over Malfoy's searching hands.
"You have to help me, Granger." Draco pleaded as he finally found what he was looking for in his pocket. "You're the smartest person in our year… you have to get me out of this" He said as Hermione was beginning to think he had finally lost his mind.
"What? How can I get you out of that?!" She spat, her eyes suddenly going wide as Draco pulled out a black and silver revolver, the kind that she had only seen in Dark Magic books – books that she had only seen in the Restricted Section.
Hermione gasped, and stepped backwards, causing a few books on the shelve to knock over. "Malfoy, are you mad? That's a… a…"
"An AK Revolver with silver bullets. It's my fathers," Draco responded quickly, running his hands over the silver and black shaft of the gun, flicking the hammer and pointing the revolver at his own temple.
Hermione stifled a scream and tried to reach out for him, "Draco!" She gasped as he stepped closer.
"Don't touch me, Granger!" Draco cried, tightening his grip on the trigger. "Don't tell me what I feel – you can't even *imagine* what I'm feeling…" He whimpered, as Hermione continued to reach out her hand to him. Without thinking, he took the gun off his forehead and pointed it directly between her eyes.
"This is what it feels like to be me." He whispered dangerously, causing her to gulp soundly and squirm underneath the revolver. "Help me. Please." he whispered.
~~~*~~~
"We'll need to get most of these supplies from Snape's classroom…" Hermione's finger's trembled around the page she had torn out of a book in the library entitled 'The Tricks Of Death'.
"OK." Draco replied flatly as they walked along together in the corridor, heading towards the dungeons.
The night had come very quickly – spilling into the castle like an angel of darkness, like it knew of Draco's fate, almost as if it was after him. He shuddered as he thought of this, determined to keep his mind focused on the task at hand.
"Malfoy, are you sure…" Hermione whispered as they neared the locked door to Snape's classroom.
"Alohomora." Draco muttered as he pointed his wand at the shifting lock. "Deadly sure." He whispered, opening the door, revealing the dank depths of Snape's teaching lair.
Hermione trembled a breath and stepped inside, handing the list to Draco. Frowning, he whispered 'Lumos' and held his wand above the parchment in the darkness.
"OK, we're going to need crushed willow branches… a raven's claw… unicorn hair… black rose petals…"
Hermione crept into the stock cupboard, pulling down the various jars and vials as Draco read out the many ingredients, balancing them together under her arms.
"… and that's everything." Draco said blankly, folding up the tattered piece of parchment and shoving it into his robes.
Hermione merely nodded and walked towards him. "Oh, Draco." She sighed, her eyes filling with tears.
Draco pursed his lips together. "That's Malfoy to you, Granger." He muttered, walking out of the door and heading up the corridor, turning around to make sure she was keeping up.
~~~*~~~
"Now add the unicorn hair…" Hermione whispered as she and Draco sat cross legged together in the abandoned girl's toilets, bathed in dull candlelight, peering over a small silver cauldron that hissed and bubbled delicately.
"Right, listen to me, Draco." She said firmly, turning the parchment over. Draco purely glared at her blankly as she scanned over the words.
"This potion… it's a tricky business. That's why you have to listen to me closely." She pressed on, glancing up at him. He nodded, and waited for her to continue.
"Evanesco Feralis, also known as the potion for faked death, is not to be used lightly…" She read, her eyes screwing up at the tiny and loopish handwriting. "Drink once and said taker is put into a temporary death-like form. No warmth, no breath – body stiff and cold like fatality. Only in a span of 24 hours will said taker be roused into the living, having thought they had woken from a gentle slumber." Hermione shivered as she said the words, while Draco merely looked ahead blankly.
"You have to take this on Wednesday night, Draco. Before you go to sleep. Your mother will find you… and she'll think you are dead." Hermione felt tears run down her cheeks as she said the words, and gasped as Draco clutched onto her wrist.
"Thank you." He whispered, staring into the cauldron.
~~~*~~~
TBC
Author: Miss T
Rating: R
Genre: Angst/Romance/Dark/Fluff/Muuuuuush!
Warnings: Slash, Character Death, Violence
Pairings: Draco/Harry
Timeline: 7th year
A/N: This is my first attempt at something a bit darker to my previous fics – its not incredibly dark right enough, but it does have death in it and a lot of violence and drug references so… *shrugs* oo, and some sexual situations between two guys. So if that offends you, don't read! Consider yourself warned! Oh, and this story has been based on a sort of Romeo/Juliet (mostly from the movie) romance type… thing. :)
A/N2: another warning – hitting and abuse
CHAPTER 7 – I Would Die For You
//I would die for you… I would die for you…
I would wash away your pain with all my tears… and drown your fears//
"Draco, I gather that you know fine well why I arranged this meeting between us." Narcissa sniffed as she sipped gently at her cup of tea, letting the saucer rest lightly on her lap as she sat on the chair at Draco's desk.
"I don't actually, Mother, care to enlighten me?" Draco said rather irritably, rubbing at his temples as he sat on the edge of his bed – sheets still tainted and unmade with the nights events.
"I was very disappointed when Miss Parkinson told me she had no idea you had proposed to her. In fact, she had no idea because you didn't ACTUALLY propose to her, Draco." Narcissa said, her features going sharp as she pursed her lips together.
"Oh no… I didn't?" Draco said sarcastically, trying his best to sound shocked.
Narcissa flared her nostrils and ignored her son. "That is why I decided to arrange it myself, son." She said, her voice turning quite smug.
"You did WHAT?" Draco boomed, standing up.
"Calm down, Draco." She said lightly, placing her tea on the desk. "I simply told Miss Parkinson you are desperate to wed, and she seemed positively over the moon, my dear." Narcissa smiled, though Draco thought it was far from genuine.
He felt his face twitch as he sat back down, idly rubbing at the pendant of Harry's necklace. "When?" He croaked.
"Next Thursday." Narcissa smiled.
Draco felt his blood run cold. His heart began beating wildly in his throat, a small trickle of sweat ran down his temple.
"What?" He whispered. "But… but it's so soon!"
"Precisely!" Narcissa snorted. "To make sure you don't go running off with anyone else, boy – I know what you're like with your fairy tale fantasies, and I wouldn't be surprised if you swing to the other side of the lake, but this way I know that we can carry on the Malfoy name very soon."
Draco panicked. *Harry…* He thought, screwing his eyes tight and breathing hard. *I'm not marrying that insufferable wench! I'M IN LOVE WITH HARRY!! Yeah, bet THAT would come to a shock to you, Mother! Me in love with the Boy Who Lived. Wait… did she just insinuate that I am gay…?*
"Draco what on earth are you doing?" Narcissa sniffed, looking at her son.
Draco opened his eyes and sighed raggedly. "Please, Mother. I can't marry her. It's too soon."
"Tell that to your father." Narcissa sneered, standing up sharply as the door clicked open.
Draco stood up and stepped back a little, staring wide eyed at his father's taller form, cane in hand, smarmy grin in place.
"Have you told Draco the news?" Lucius said, looking at his wife.
"Yes, my love. He thanks you." Narcissa smiled, glancing at Draco and looking back up at her husband who closed the door firmly. "I pity the fool who marries his grave." She sneered, and Draco felt his heart stop.
Lucius sharply turned his head to Draco, his smile disappearing into a sharp frown. "Oh?" He sneered, stepping in closer to his son.
Draco winced and stepped backwards again, clasping onto the bed post behind him.
"Aren't you grateful, boy?" Lucius said, his voice dangerously low. "Thankful that we have found you a perfectly good pureblood to carry on the family name? ARE YOU NOT PROUD?!" He roared, lifting his cane into the air.
"Not proud that you have, but thankful that you have!" Draco shouted through tears. "PROUD CAN I NEVER BE OF WHAT I HATE!" he yelled, his voice cracking, thick with tears.
Lucius grabbed his shoulders at this point, growling into the air and throwing Draco across the other side of the room. Draco watched stars etch the side of his vision as he landed with a slump against the wall onto the floor.
"Do NOT talk to me like that BOY!!" Lucius snarled, advancing on Draco and wrapping his fingers around his son's throat, throttling him hard, oblivious to the muffled screams from Narcissa.
Draco screamed as loud as he could, but found that all he could produce were thick gurgles and whimpers under the pressure of Lucius' hands.
"You WILL be proud of the Malfoy name, I'll make sure of that, boy!" Lucius yelled, shaking his son's shoulders back and forth, causing his head to knock a few sickening times against the wall.
Draco yelped in pain, his eyes overflowing with tears making his face sticky and hot, his nose and mouth drenched in wetness as he panted, whimpering at his father's force.
Lucius finally stopped shaking Draco, but continued to grip onto his shoulders. "You better make sure you are at the altar on Thursday, boy." He spat, his eyes ablaze. "Or never even think about looking at me again." With one final shake that caused Draco's head to bash violently against the wall, Lucius whipped onto his feet, straightening his robes and gripping onto his cane, and made his way out of the door with a loud bang.
Draco panted heavily for a few seconds, and glanced over at his Mother who was standing next to the window. At once, he burst into hysterical tears, crawling to his feet towards Narcissa, who continued to stare out of the window, red tear stains marring her features.
"Please…" He pleaded, blinking through his tears. "Please, Mother – don't allow me to do this! Give it a month!" Draco cried, wringing his hands. "A week… or prepare yourself to arrange another coffin for the tomb where Blaise lies…" He sobbed, landing on his knees in front of Narcissa.
"Don't speak to me." Narcissa spat, looking down her nose at Draco. "For I will not speak a word. Do what you want. I've finished with you." She said rather apathetically, before walking out of the door, and closing it again with a loud bang.
"Oh… God…" Draco whimpered, letting fresh tears run down his face as he slumped onto the ground, burying his face into his hands.
~~~*~~~
Hermione sat at her usual spot in the library, pining over a large pile of books, wearing her usual frown of concentration.
That's why Draco Malfoy knew it would be easy to find her.
Sighing and flicking a page over, Hermione scratched her head lightly, trying not to let her thoughts about Harry and Ron overshadow her. If she did, there would be no light left and she would drown in darkness.
Sniffing sharply, she perked her head up. She could have sworn she heard someone's footsteps. *You're worse than Filch, girl.* She told herself, looking back down at her book.
Hermione almost jumped out of her skin when two hands came slamming down on the desk in front of her.
"Granger!" Draco said breathlessly, his trademark pale cheeks red and blotchy, his hair and clothes dishevelled as he leaned over the desk, boring his eyes into Hermione with absolute desperation.
Hermione gasped and struck a hand to her own mouth, causing her chair to roll back slightly. The site was unreal – Draco's eyes were ablaze with fire, his lips trembling, his eyebrows knitted into a deep frown.
"I can't do it, Granger!" Draco whimpered, grabbing onto Hermione's shoulders and pulling her onto her feet, leading her to the corner between the deserted bookshelves.
Hermione trembled and winced under Draco's forcefulness, and she strained herself to speak in a whisper. "Can't do what, Malfoy?!"
Draco let go of her, suddenly fumbling in the pockets of his robes. "Marry her! I CAN'T! My… my Mother is making me marry that insolent BITCH Parkinson… and… I can't…" He was in tears, still searching his pockets.
"You're in love with Harry." Hermione said flatly, her eyes wandering over Malfoy's searching hands.
"You have to help me, Granger." Draco pleaded as he finally found what he was looking for in his pocket. "You're the smartest person in our year… you have to get me out of this" He said as Hermione was beginning to think he had finally lost his mind.
"What? How can I get you out of that?!" She spat, her eyes suddenly going wide as Draco pulled out a black and silver revolver, the kind that she had only seen in Dark Magic books – books that she had only seen in the Restricted Section.
Hermione gasped, and stepped backwards, causing a few books on the shelve to knock over. "Malfoy, are you mad? That's a… a…"
"An AK Revolver with silver bullets. It's my fathers," Draco responded quickly, running his hands over the silver and black shaft of the gun, flicking the hammer and pointing the revolver at his own temple.
Hermione stifled a scream and tried to reach out for him, "Draco!" She gasped as he stepped closer.
"Don't touch me, Granger!" Draco cried, tightening his grip on the trigger. "Don't tell me what I feel – you can't even *imagine* what I'm feeling…" He whimpered, as Hermione continued to reach out her hand to him. Without thinking, he took the gun off his forehead and pointed it directly between her eyes.
"This is what it feels like to be me." He whispered dangerously, causing her to gulp soundly and squirm underneath the revolver. "Help me. Please." he whispered.
~~~*~~~
"We'll need to get most of these supplies from Snape's classroom…" Hermione's finger's trembled around the page she had torn out of a book in the library entitled 'The Tricks Of Death'.
"OK." Draco replied flatly as they walked along together in the corridor, heading towards the dungeons.
The night had come very quickly – spilling into the castle like an angel of darkness, like it knew of Draco's fate, almost as if it was after him. He shuddered as he thought of this, determined to keep his mind focused on the task at hand.
"Malfoy, are you sure…" Hermione whispered as they neared the locked door to Snape's classroom.
"Alohomora." Draco muttered as he pointed his wand at the shifting lock. "Deadly sure." He whispered, opening the door, revealing the dank depths of Snape's teaching lair.
Hermione trembled a breath and stepped inside, handing the list to Draco. Frowning, he whispered 'Lumos' and held his wand above the parchment in the darkness.
"OK, we're going to need crushed willow branches… a raven's claw… unicorn hair… black rose petals…"
Hermione crept into the stock cupboard, pulling down the various jars and vials as Draco read out the many ingredients, balancing them together under her arms.
"… and that's everything." Draco said blankly, folding up the tattered piece of parchment and shoving it into his robes.
Hermione merely nodded and walked towards him. "Oh, Draco." She sighed, her eyes filling with tears.
Draco pursed his lips together. "That's Malfoy to you, Granger." He muttered, walking out of the door and heading up the corridor, turning around to make sure she was keeping up.
~~~*~~~
"Now add the unicorn hair…" Hermione whispered as she and Draco sat cross legged together in the abandoned girl's toilets, bathed in dull candlelight, peering over a small silver cauldron that hissed and bubbled delicately.
"Right, listen to me, Draco." She said firmly, turning the parchment over. Draco purely glared at her blankly as she scanned over the words.
"This potion… it's a tricky business. That's why you have to listen to me closely." She pressed on, glancing up at him. He nodded, and waited for her to continue.
"Evanesco Feralis, also known as the potion for faked death, is not to be used lightly…" She read, her eyes screwing up at the tiny and loopish handwriting. "Drink once and said taker is put into a temporary death-like form. No warmth, no breath – body stiff and cold like fatality. Only in a span of 24 hours will said taker be roused into the living, having thought they had woken from a gentle slumber." Hermione shivered as she said the words, while Draco merely looked ahead blankly.
"You have to take this on Wednesday night, Draco. Before you go to sleep. Your mother will find you… and she'll think you are dead." Hermione felt tears run down her cheeks as she said the words, and gasped as Draco clutched onto her wrist.
"Thank you." He whispered, staring into the cauldron.
~~~*~~~
TBC
