*****Notes for the rest of the story******
*Denotes thought*
//denotes the beginning or end of a dream sequence\\
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//The whole world consisted of him; his touch, his taste, the way his hair fell into his eyes... and Draco found himself lost with nothing left for him to do but try to breathe. Even that most primal of instinct was forgotten in the rush of heady pleasure the boy's hands on him brought. Kisses were passionate and unrestrained, a fire hidden within him being stoked to incredible heat. Jade green met with his own silver eyes for a long second until he bent his head back and let his mind slip away, just content to live for that sweet moment. A second later a strong fist connected with his face.
He fell back to a cold stone floor, hand at his aching jaw, blood from a split lip between his fingers. He looked up into the white-hot anger of his father's grey eyes, and gasped in shock and pain as a foot met his stomach violently. Sprawled on his belly across the floor, he tried to sit up when a hand grabbed the back of his neck, hauling his head back painfully before smashing his forehead into the unyielding granite stones beneath him. He was too far-gone to even cry out in pain when the hand came again and wrenched his battered body onto it's back. Briefly, his eyes met with the ruby read beady orbs of the dark lord before the hands were on him again, in a rough mockery of love; he realized he was still naked and the figure above him smirked as he began to scream. He screamed until the walls broke and crumbled to the ground, he screamed until the floor beneath him cracked and split itself into a vast chasm, screamed until the man above him stopped his violating movements, screamed until he felt the blood pool in his raw throat.//
When Draco Malfoy awoke he was still screaming, and it was several minutes before he calmed enough to stop, valiantly fighting back the hot rush of tears to his eyes *Malfoy's don't cry.* He curled himself into a little ball, trying to hide from the darkness pressing him down like his dreamed attackers and fought to control himself. Around the dorm, all the other Slytherins slept peacefully, thanks to the silencing charm Draco had perfected after years of nightly casting. This was not his first vividly horrific nightmare, and would likely not be his last. *The mind is often the most dangerous of enemies.*
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Breakfast was business as usual for the Boy Who Lived. He listened with growing amusement as the redheaded boy next to him animatedly retold his anecdote for the whole table. Harry laughed although having heard that particular story several times before, it had never failed to bring a smile to his face. Indeed, the adventures of young Ronald Weasley and his siblings were favorites among the Gryffindors. The amount of trouble those seven got up too... Boggled his mind it did. *Truly. I don't know how he survived this long with his sort of luck...*
"So Harry, want to tell us what took you so bloody long in the shower this morning?" Ron's face suddenly loomed over Harry's cheese and bacon omelet, leering at him suggestively. The whole table held it's breath right down to the brand-new first years, waiting to see if he could respond without causing himself undue embarrassment, a pastime in which Ron took great pleasure in. Harry, for his part, did a great job; his eyes not leaving Ron's once, his accompanying shrug was completely nonchalant and his face maintained it's totally straight expression right to the end before he cracked up.
"You know me Ron, I just have to keep my hands busy."
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The Gryffindor's hearty laughter reached straight to the other end of the dining hall, and to Draco Malfoy's sleepy ears; his face drawn and pale with memories, dreading the inevitable face-off against his rival on the Quidditch pitch in less than ten hours.
*Denotes thought*
//denotes the beginning or end of a dream sequence\\
************************************************************************
//The whole world consisted of him; his touch, his taste, the way his hair fell into his eyes... and Draco found himself lost with nothing left for him to do but try to breathe. Even that most primal of instinct was forgotten in the rush of heady pleasure the boy's hands on him brought. Kisses were passionate and unrestrained, a fire hidden within him being stoked to incredible heat. Jade green met with his own silver eyes for a long second until he bent his head back and let his mind slip away, just content to live for that sweet moment. A second later a strong fist connected with his face.
He fell back to a cold stone floor, hand at his aching jaw, blood from a split lip between his fingers. He looked up into the white-hot anger of his father's grey eyes, and gasped in shock and pain as a foot met his stomach violently. Sprawled on his belly across the floor, he tried to sit up when a hand grabbed the back of his neck, hauling his head back painfully before smashing his forehead into the unyielding granite stones beneath him. He was too far-gone to even cry out in pain when the hand came again and wrenched his battered body onto it's back. Briefly, his eyes met with the ruby read beady orbs of the dark lord before the hands were on him again, in a rough mockery of love; he realized he was still naked and the figure above him smirked as he began to scream. He screamed until the walls broke and crumbled to the ground, he screamed until the floor beneath him cracked and split itself into a vast chasm, screamed until the man above him stopped his violating movements, screamed until he felt the blood pool in his raw throat.//
When Draco Malfoy awoke he was still screaming, and it was several minutes before he calmed enough to stop, valiantly fighting back the hot rush of tears to his eyes *Malfoy's don't cry.* He curled himself into a little ball, trying to hide from the darkness pressing him down like his dreamed attackers and fought to control himself. Around the dorm, all the other Slytherins slept peacefully, thanks to the silencing charm Draco had perfected after years of nightly casting. This was not his first vividly horrific nightmare, and would likely not be his last. *The mind is often the most dangerous of enemies.*
************************************************************************
Breakfast was business as usual for the Boy Who Lived. He listened with growing amusement as the redheaded boy next to him animatedly retold his anecdote for the whole table. Harry laughed although having heard that particular story several times before, it had never failed to bring a smile to his face. Indeed, the adventures of young Ronald Weasley and his siblings were favorites among the Gryffindors. The amount of trouble those seven got up too... Boggled his mind it did. *Truly. I don't know how he survived this long with his sort of luck...*
"So Harry, want to tell us what took you so bloody long in the shower this morning?" Ron's face suddenly loomed over Harry's cheese and bacon omelet, leering at him suggestively. The whole table held it's breath right down to the brand-new first years, waiting to see if he could respond without causing himself undue embarrassment, a pastime in which Ron took great pleasure in. Harry, for his part, did a great job; his eyes not leaving Ron's once, his accompanying shrug was completely nonchalant and his face maintained it's totally straight expression right to the end before he cracked up.
"You know me Ron, I just have to keep my hands busy."
************************************************************************
The Gryffindor's hearty laughter reached straight to the other end of the dining hall, and to Draco Malfoy's sleepy ears; his face drawn and pale with memories, dreading the inevitable face-off against his rival on the Quidditch pitch in less than ten hours.