Author's note: Ginny is going to be it this chapter and I don't want you to
think she looks as she does in the movies because in my opinion, she's not
too attractive. So please just picture her the way I describe her...she
should be pretty.
Chapter 5.
He felt warm and sticky coming out of another dreamless sleep. His room was a dim pink from a sunrise through his window. He made a delicate move out of heavy sheets, but froze when a slight, aggravated moan sounded in his left ear.
Draco Malfoy had given in to Pansy 'Pathetic' Parkinson last night. He had given her what she begged for more willingly then he wished...he was a guy after all. Pansy continued to hotly breathe onto Draco's perfect face, causing him to lurch towards the bathroom; totally disgusted. He checked over his shoulder to make sure the girl remained sleeping.
Pansy lay there, looking almost beautiful. Her hair was a bleached blond, scattered over his pillow and a few small, wispy ones sweated to her face. Draco knew Pansy's hair was only half blond, like her sisters, because he remembered it being that way since third year, since they started having 'fun' together. Her lips were slightly open, a deep sore red, and swollen. Draco highly preferred it when her mouth wasn't jabbering away or sucking on his own lips-or anything else of Dracos' for that matter. Pansy really wasn't that bad looking; she had to be one of the prettiest girls in Slytherin...although that isn't saying much.
Draco turned on his heel to the washroom, bored of staring at Pansy. He relived himself and then turned on the water for a shower. He didn't have any clothes to take off so he just took a step into the freezing water. One thing about Draco was he hated hot showers, they made his skin red and sort of steam. His cold showers on the other hand, re-energized him, made his skin cool down and refresh, made his eyes open to start the day. Draco took a large bar of soap that smelled of citrus and began to rinse off last night's waste from Pansy and himself.
Minutes passed as Draco succeeded to wash his hair three times and condition it twice, his usual ordeal. He came from the shower shivering and wiping of cold droplets. He tiptoed back to his room and found Pansy exactly where he had left her, sprawled lazily across his bed.
Draco opened his dark wood drawer and put on his silk, black boxers (like every other pair he had) and his school robes. He never bothered with cologne; the sent from the soap he used always stayed on him. He attached his silver watch onto his wrist and was shocked at the time: he an another hour and a half until breakfast. Draco thought of going back to bed for a second when he remembered Pansy was still annoyingly breathing there.
Draco looked out his extended widow to meet eyes with an inviting sunrise. He then turned away towards the exit door, wanting to get closer to the orange and purple sky.
The morning air practically tasted of autumn. Draco made his way towards the lake and sat down against a damp tree to take in the sun's performance. He wondered if anything could be that amazing.
All of a sudden, out of thin air he heard a cough. Draco abruptly stood on the spot and paused again, in attempt to hear another noise. As if knowing that would happen, a small sob beckoned from the other side of the tree. Draco reached into his robes to withdraw his wand. Slowly, he made his way around the barks right side, wand in hand. Draco made sure not to step on any twigs or snag his robe on a branch. He jumped from the tree and into view, heart beating rapidly, mouth hanging open to shout a spell, ready to strike whatever it was, ready to win!
A girl sad there with her head clutched against her small hands. Her red hair was falling dramatically from a delicate bun of bobby pins, not taking notice of Draco's presence; too busy flooding her eyes out.
"Weasley." Draco stated as the girl shot her head up, realizing another human being was in her presence and wiped away tears.
"Malfoy, what are you doing here?" Virginia Weasley sat on the damp grass clutching her legs, staring at a sixteen year old Draco Malfoy with puffy brown eyes. She had never been alone with Draco before, she's actually never said much of anything to him before and now he turned up at the worst time.
"I can be here Weasley, I'm a prefect." Draco pointed to a shiny pin attached to his robes. "You on the other hand, should not be here at this hour of the morning."
"Alright then." Ginny paused to stand up. "I'll be leaving." Draco was about five inches taller than Ginny, he noticed as he looked down.
"You will not be leaving." Draco smirked.
"Won't I?" Ginny was confused; didn't he just want her to leave?
"No, you wont." Draco sat down in the spot Ginny had been sitting and pointed to the right for her to sit down as well. The truth was Draco wanted company, even if it was a weasel; at least he could insult her for fun.
Ginny sat down for some strange reason. She knew her brother hated Malfoy and whenever she was around Draco he'd always make fun of her. Maybe it was his eyes that drew her next to him, those eyes gave away so much of his character, they looked almost lonely.
Draco could smell Ginny as she took her seat, like sunflower.
"What do you want with me Malfoy?" Ginny tried to sound annoyed but hadn't succeeded. Draco kept his eyes pinned to the little bit of purple sky left while Ginny studied his right ear.
"Why are you out here so early in the morning? Did your little boyfriend kick you out of the bed because you weren't good enough or did your father ran out of money so now you must live in this tree?" Now Draco decided to look at her and met eyes strait away. She had a short Irish nose that stuck up just a bit with freckles scattered across and onto her cheeks. Her face was small, just like her petite body, with huge dark brown eyes, long red lashes, and carefully shaped eye brows; making her look two years older. This was the first time Draco really noticed Virginia.
"Don't talk about Harry that way." Draco smirked, knowing he had touched a sensitive nerve. Ginny decided not to argue about her family's lack of money...probably because it hurt her too much to think about it.
"And why can't I talk about him in a way he deserves to be spoken about?" Draco leaned closer to Ginny, whispering. "Tell me, why were you crying?"
Coming from anyone else, that question would have been full of concern. From Malfoy, it was either taunting or teasing...she couldn't decide. "I was NOT crying."
"You're insulting my intelligence, weasel. I'm not as thick as Potter, I know what crying is when I see it." Draco seethed.
"I don't want to talk about my problems with YOU. Why would I? Give me one good reason for me to tell you, and picking fun at me doesn't count!" Draco had never understood the expression 'if looks could kill...' until now.
"Because no one else is here to listen." Draco thought his answer was very intelligent, like the sly boy he was.
"It's just that stupid girl! She's such a little whore." Ginny's eyes stung and she once again, dug her face into her freckled hands. "Punkng Parsukn."
"Are you speaking another language or are you just used to talking as if Potter's dick is in your mouth?" Draco couldn't help it; he just couldn't be sympathetic.
"I SAID, 'Fucking Parkinson!' Fuck that little bitch, I fucking HATE HER." She had to yell, she had to let it all out, she had to tell someone, even if it was Draco Malfoy.
"Please, if you're going to curse, do it properly." Draco paused. "So little first year Parkinson took away your 'big handsome' Potty?" He smirked. "You could always buy him back." Draco acted as if it were a brilliant idea. "Oh wait, I'm talking to a weasel, you don't have enough money to buy a proper quill! Never mind, then." He then sarcastically hit his forehead with the palm of his hand.
"Shut your ugly mouth, Malfoy. I don't know why I'm wasting my time with trash like you." Ginny made to stand but didn't quite make it.
A magnificently sized Masked Plover swooped from the now blue sky. Its black and gray wings cast a long shadow over the two teenagers. The bird gracefully grazed to the moist dirt. Its head was a bright yellow wrinkled skin with two black eyes deep inside its socket. The Plover somehow reminded Draco of agony. Sweet agony not of physical, but mental pain. The pain of not being able to show pleasure, sensitiveness, and affection. A pain he was most used to. This shallow bird brought its salmon clawed foot to Draco, showing him a silver envelope.
Draco took the paper, trying not to touch the creature as best he could. Ginny looked over his shoulder, trying to see the scrawl as it was opened. Draco held the parchment between his thumb and index fingers while beautiful script letters danced to form words upon the page.
Mr. Draco Lucius Malfoy,
The time has come for you to prove where you stand. In a week's time we will come, be prepared.
D.E.
Draco somberly rolled the letter back up and slipped it into his pocket. He looked for the appalling bird but saw it only as a shadow riding back in the single cloud. With a lazy sigh, Draco began back to the castle.
"Wait just a minute! I told you all of my problems, now you tell me what that whole thing was about, what does that letter say?" Ginny placed her hands on her slim waist and tapped her right foot, taking on an impression of Professor McGonagal.
"My personal matters seem to be of much more importance than your silly school-girl problems." Draco yelled over his shoulder, still walking away. Ginny now jogged to up to the 'arrogant prick'.
"They aren't silly. Malfoy, you're not being fair! C'mon, spill it!" Ginny stayed at Draco's heel, taking two steps for every of his one.
"What gave you the impression that I'm fair? I've never heard of such a word." Draco abruptly came to a halt halfway up the stone stairs to the entrance, causing Ginny to collide into him. "Watch where you're going!" Draco flattened out non-existent wrinkles in his Slytherin uniform.
"Please DRACO, just tell me!" Pleaded Ginny.
"Whoa, okay, okay, just as long as you don't call me by my first name; people might think we're friends!" Draco took the note from his pocket and handed it to the red head. Her eyebrows fitted together when read though.
"What does 'D.E.' stand for?" Ginny hoped he'd answer her question, it was the only way she'd understand the letter at all.
"You can't figure it out?" Draco rolled his frosted eyes. "D.E!" He wondered if by repeating the letters she'd get it...still a blank stare. "Don't you know what my father is? Don't you know what all Malfoy's are or will be?"
"Ooohhh!" Ginny grinned with a sign of correspondence. "Well I knew you were all Dung Eaters but I didn't know you'd actually admit it."
"Don't try to be witty, you made yourself look even worse. You have the second part correct..." Draco hinted.
"Wow, Draco. You're going to be a-a" She whispered. "Death Eater?"
"Finally, you get the bloody picture."
***
And she stirs. Pansy Parkinson rose with fake elegance to gaze into the eyes of her love, only to find he had left. She somewhat expected his departure before seeing him in the morning but couldn't bring herself to believe it. Last night had been amazing for Pansy; she cherished every second, every deep breath, and every aggressive moan. She figured she was falling in love with Draco Malfoy.
As Pansy lay deep in the wrinkled bed covers, lingering on last night, several sharp taps sounded from the gothic window to her left. With an irritated sigh, Pansy stumped out of the sheets and slumbered to the racket.
"What the fuck do you want, you ugly little thing?" Pansy asked a medium sized owl with vibrant orange eyes, speckled red and black feathers, and sharp pointy ears.
The bird only hooted and stretched out its leg with massive bloodied claws from its last hunt. Pansy untied the note and rolled the parchment open.
Mrs. Pansy Parthenia Parkinson,
The time has come for you to prove where you stand. In a week's time we will come, be prepared. Do not disappoint us this time.
D.E.
Pansy shoved the letter into a tight ball within her fist. She had defiantly messed up the last and first time she went to a death eater meeting. She disgraced herself in front of her father and mother while her sister gained all the benefits; and Brooke didn't even want the job!
She remembered that day quite clearly. Her mother, Parthenia, was in the middle of telling Pansy about a sale on evening robes when Parthenia dropped her teacup to the ground with a shatter, and clutched her left forearm. Pansy ran to her mother's side and led her to the armoire for a black robe and her mask.
Parthenia tuned to her daughter then and told her it was her time to come as well. It was her time to help their Lord live, to help him stay on this earth, even if it was only a part of him that actually stayed. Pansy only nodded and was told her sister would be doing the same.
Sure enough, when they arrived at Voldemort's manor, Brooke was waiting there, along with their father, Blake Parkinson himself. How Pansy despised her father!
The meeting ran smoothly, the only hard part of their meeting was the first look at Voldemort. It wasn't the first time Pansy had seen her Lord, its just that every time you first laid eyes on him a freezing shiver ran up your back, making small neck hairs stand.
When the meeting had ended the Dark Lord told the Parkinson's to remain. He took Pansy into a side room and after three minutes she returned, looking like she couldn't breathe.
Next, Brooke was asked to step into the room with Voldemort. He put a bony hand around her shoulder, causing her to gasp while he led her in. It took more than twenty minutes for Brooke to reappear from the door and when she did, her expression was horrified.
It was obvious that whatever was being done, Pansy had done it better. Pansy had always been better at everything than Brooke had. From a game of chess and exploding snap to magic duels and even fist fighting, Pansy was always one step closer to winning, no matter what.
On the contrary, Brooke had outdone her sister tremendously! She had received the privilege to do what every dark pureblood would love; and that annoyed Pansy terribly.
So now Pansy stood there, fixated on the view of the lake from the other side of the tinted window. She still held the letter crunched up in her hand. And Pansy did what she wasn't supposed to do, she cried.
***
Harry awoke with a faint image of a beautiful girl smiling coyly at him. Was it only a dream? Was he really with Brooke last night? Had she really given him a kiss on the cheek?
Harry smiled as he remembered it HAD happened, he HAD walked the girl to her room and she HAD kissed him goodnight. He also HAD been an absolute prick to Ginny Weasley, his GIRLFRIEND. She HAD seen the exchange between Brooke and himself and she HAD run off, away from the common room, away from his apology.
Now Harry, Golden Boy of Gryffindor, was the one in big trouble. He had come to such an opportunity he never thought possible for himself. He had to choose between two girls because he liked them both and it just wouldn't be fair to either of them if he didn't make a choice. So what was he to do?
Harry rolled on his back to stare at the top of the bed hangings. They were dark scarlet red...red-like Ginny's hair. 'She has the prettiest hair, it falls short around her face and gradually gets longer by the back, then stops before her butt. It's always pin strait and once in a while she'll put a small glittery clap in it to keep some of the smaller strands from falling into her eyes...falling into her eyes-Brooke's hair usually fell in her eyes. Brooke had stunning hair too. It was hard to describe, with all different shades of brown and blonde. Most of the dark brown hair was by her neck, and then she had light brown over that, then beautiful light strands of gold, taking up most of the mane, then selective platinum blond strands lay on top.' Harry looked thoughtful for a while. 'They're both perfect.'
Harry began to come to the conclusion that the girls were complete opposites. Brooke was calm, sly, outgoing, and cunning while Ginny demonstrated a more happily easy going, respectful, caring but at same time, scary when provoked neutrality. Their looks too were much opposite. Ginny with red hair, chocolate brown eyes, pale and freckled skin, petite body, and an amazingly cute small smile displayed with dimples was enough for Harry to fall out of bed, stunned with fascination. Brooke with dirty blond hair, gold-hazel eyes, lightly tanned skin, slim and big-breasted body, and a glistening smile was enough for Harry to get back into his bed to start some private things with himself.
He was so lucky and yet-wasn't. He had tons of weight to hold; he had the power to hurt one of the girl's feelings and make the other smile. But what if he didn't have a choice at all? Maybe Brooke didn't like him that way, maybe she just thought it polite to kiss him goodnight, it wasn't like they made out or anything. And Ginny, it could be no turning back after she saw Brooke and him together again. She had already accepted his apology once and that same day Harry screwed it all up; he really was a prick.
A prick who decided to push that matter aside. He had made his choice and he wasn't going to change his mind.
***
It was Harry Potter. She just couldn't believe it; she didn't want to believe it, but it-he-was right there clear as air (if that makes sense) in her memory. She had kissed the boy, only on the cheek, but it was nice, and she didn't regret it...until she saw the nosey little red head that was always around Harry peer from the staircase and then run away.
Was he dating her? Brooke hoped he wasn't, she hoped he would eventually be with her. He is what she needed, breathed, dreamed about. He was different from all the other guys she had ever been with. He was sweet to her when she really needed a friend, he made her laugh when she was down, he made her feel wanted, and he made her want HIM. But he was Harry Potter.
Harry Potter.
The boy who made their family a tragedy after Voldemort's fall. The boy who hated her sister. The boy who was to kill the person to be her Lord. The boy who's name was repeated by her father day, night, and in his dreams. The boy she was supposed to hate, despise, loathe, spit upon, resent, curse, and shun.
He was Harry Potter. And he was brilliantly gorgeous. Brooke couldn't stop thinking about him all of the next day. She couldn't stop staring at him at breakfast, lunch and now at dinner. He was freggin enticing.
Brooke for the millionth time looked from her plate to the enveloping boy. He sat perfectly between his friend Hermione and Ron. He didn't look happy at all and neither did his mates. Actually, Ron looked beyond anger; he was quite on the verge of a tantrum.
'What is he yelling about?' Brooke wondered then bored her eyes into Harry again. His ebony hair erratically lay stuck up in the back and down his forehead, covering the delicate scar. His eyebrows were knitted together over bewitching emerald orbs fixated on his empty dinner plate. His nose ran slender then sloped up a slight bit, accenting his fabulous high cheekbones. Then, his lips were tinged roseate, the bottom wet from his tongue. He was flawless. He was everything she wanted.
"YOU ARE SUCH AN UNGRATEFUL, ARROGANT, DISRESPECTFUL, BRAINLESS DICK!"
Brooke yanked her eyes from Harry and to his best sidekick, Ron. The whole hall became silent, every eye focused in on the two boys.
"YOU CANT TREAT MY SISTER THAT WAY! I NEVER SHOULD HAVE INCOURAGED HER TO GO OUT WITH YOU; YOU DON'T DESERVE HER!" Harry's face turned red, not from embarrassment-Brooke could tell-but from anger.
"I can be with whoever I WANT TO BE WITH and it doesn't concern you." What the hell were the boys going on about?
"SHUT THE FUCK UP! IT CONCERNS ME VERY MUCH, HOW COULD YOU CHEAT ON HER?" Ron had furious tears in his eyes while he slammed both his hands against Harry's chest, pushing him to step back.
'He's cheating on his girlfriend? He's cheating on that little red haired girl? With WHO?'
Ron fired on, "AND WITH THAT GIRL, THAT PARKINSON BITCH!" Ron pointed strait at Brooke and she could feel Harry's eyes on her too. 'OOOhhhh!' The comprehension dawned.
Brooke was about to defend herself but Harry beat her to it. "Ron, stop being so blind, it's not like that!"
"IT'S NOT LIKE WHAT-NOT LIKE WHAT-POTTER?" Ron's hair was in his face and Hermione was desperately trying to calm him down by saying things out of Brooke's hear shot.
"It's just NOT what you think, Brooke and I are FRIENDS." Harry looked again at Brooke. His eyes were pleading and the green became so open and clear that Brooke wanted to run over to him and tell him it will be alright.
"FRIENDS MY ARSE!" Ron dodged his fist right into Harry's perfect nose, spouting blood along his handsome face and Ron's freckled hand. Throaty gasps cried from the hall while the Slytherins laughed and cheered. Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall made it just in time before Harry could give Ron a right hook in the eye.
Ron whispered something so soft no one could hear, but Harry obviously did because his lips thinned together, his fingers curled to a ball, and his eyes turned to slits.
McGonagall dragged Ron Weasley out by his arm while Dumbledore escorted Harry to the hospital wing, only after Harry glanced to Brooke again.
When the both the boys were out of sight, the sight seemed to steer towards Brooke. The whole hall for once took notice Brooke was in their school; it was the first acknowledgement that she was living since the sorting three days ago. 'How did all this happen in only three days?'
Seamus Finnigan smirked and winked his brown eye at Brooke. 'What is that all about?'
The bell rang and as it did, a Vulture cast its ugly wings through the window where the owls had came during lunch. The ghastly thing landed on Brooke's clean plate and held out its leg. Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson stood on their chairs so they'd be able to see over the leaving students.
Brooke opened the parchment and read:
Mrs. Brooke Blair Parkinson,
The time has come for you to prove where you stand. In a week's time we will come, be prepared. The Lord greatly anticipates your arrival.
D.E.
'OH SHIT! The dark Lord wants me to come, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.' Brooke's hands began to tremble, shaking the paper still in her hand with her eyes fixed still upon it. She read the short letter over again and disappointment flooded as the words remained the same.
A cool, milky hand rested upon hers and gently pulled the parchment from her grasp.
"We've gotten one too." Draco implored, gesturing to Pansy.
Brooke looked to Malfoy, "I see."
Pansy nodded and walked away, like she could spare any more time with her own sister.
"Do you think we're going to be given the mark?" Brooke whispered to the blond.
"I think there is more to it than just the mark, we must have to do something. Otherwise why would all of us be called together?" Draco was talking to this Gryffindor as an equal.
"Right, well-uh-when do you think it will happen?"
"What am I, a dictionary?" Draco rolled his eyes. "They probably wont call us for a long while, they like to make us nervous for as much a time as possible."
Brooke only nodded. A silence passed and she took in some air before her next sentence. "Are we in this together Draco, I mean, are we friends?" Brooke felt only foolish, like he'd actually say yes.
"I don't have friends, Parkinson, only acquaintances, enemies, and fuck partners. But we are in this together, my choice or not."
"I see, well, I figured it would have just made it easier if we were friends." Brooke looked at the floor and fiddled with her hands.
"It's the hard way then, but if it makes you feel better, your rather uh- nice to talk to." It did make Brooke feel a bit better, although she wished she never asked.
"Alright then, I'll be seeing you Malfoy."
"Parkinson." Malfoy turned from her with a dramatic toss of his robes.
***
That's the chapter, took me long enough!
Please leave a review, I'm insecure, and I need some boosting and some constructive criticism.
Chapter 5.
He felt warm and sticky coming out of another dreamless sleep. His room was a dim pink from a sunrise through his window. He made a delicate move out of heavy sheets, but froze when a slight, aggravated moan sounded in his left ear.
Draco Malfoy had given in to Pansy 'Pathetic' Parkinson last night. He had given her what she begged for more willingly then he wished...he was a guy after all. Pansy continued to hotly breathe onto Draco's perfect face, causing him to lurch towards the bathroom; totally disgusted. He checked over his shoulder to make sure the girl remained sleeping.
Pansy lay there, looking almost beautiful. Her hair was a bleached blond, scattered over his pillow and a few small, wispy ones sweated to her face. Draco knew Pansy's hair was only half blond, like her sisters, because he remembered it being that way since third year, since they started having 'fun' together. Her lips were slightly open, a deep sore red, and swollen. Draco highly preferred it when her mouth wasn't jabbering away or sucking on his own lips-or anything else of Dracos' for that matter. Pansy really wasn't that bad looking; she had to be one of the prettiest girls in Slytherin...although that isn't saying much.
Draco turned on his heel to the washroom, bored of staring at Pansy. He relived himself and then turned on the water for a shower. He didn't have any clothes to take off so he just took a step into the freezing water. One thing about Draco was he hated hot showers, they made his skin red and sort of steam. His cold showers on the other hand, re-energized him, made his skin cool down and refresh, made his eyes open to start the day. Draco took a large bar of soap that smelled of citrus and began to rinse off last night's waste from Pansy and himself.
Minutes passed as Draco succeeded to wash his hair three times and condition it twice, his usual ordeal. He came from the shower shivering and wiping of cold droplets. He tiptoed back to his room and found Pansy exactly where he had left her, sprawled lazily across his bed.
Draco opened his dark wood drawer and put on his silk, black boxers (like every other pair he had) and his school robes. He never bothered with cologne; the sent from the soap he used always stayed on him. He attached his silver watch onto his wrist and was shocked at the time: he an another hour and a half until breakfast. Draco thought of going back to bed for a second when he remembered Pansy was still annoyingly breathing there.
Draco looked out his extended widow to meet eyes with an inviting sunrise. He then turned away towards the exit door, wanting to get closer to the orange and purple sky.
The morning air practically tasted of autumn. Draco made his way towards the lake and sat down against a damp tree to take in the sun's performance. He wondered if anything could be that amazing.
All of a sudden, out of thin air he heard a cough. Draco abruptly stood on the spot and paused again, in attempt to hear another noise. As if knowing that would happen, a small sob beckoned from the other side of the tree. Draco reached into his robes to withdraw his wand. Slowly, he made his way around the barks right side, wand in hand. Draco made sure not to step on any twigs or snag his robe on a branch. He jumped from the tree and into view, heart beating rapidly, mouth hanging open to shout a spell, ready to strike whatever it was, ready to win!
A girl sad there with her head clutched against her small hands. Her red hair was falling dramatically from a delicate bun of bobby pins, not taking notice of Draco's presence; too busy flooding her eyes out.
"Weasley." Draco stated as the girl shot her head up, realizing another human being was in her presence and wiped away tears.
"Malfoy, what are you doing here?" Virginia Weasley sat on the damp grass clutching her legs, staring at a sixteen year old Draco Malfoy with puffy brown eyes. She had never been alone with Draco before, she's actually never said much of anything to him before and now he turned up at the worst time.
"I can be here Weasley, I'm a prefect." Draco pointed to a shiny pin attached to his robes. "You on the other hand, should not be here at this hour of the morning."
"Alright then." Ginny paused to stand up. "I'll be leaving." Draco was about five inches taller than Ginny, he noticed as he looked down.
"You will not be leaving." Draco smirked.
"Won't I?" Ginny was confused; didn't he just want her to leave?
"No, you wont." Draco sat down in the spot Ginny had been sitting and pointed to the right for her to sit down as well. The truth was Draco wanted company, even if it was a weasel; at least he could insult her for fun.
Ginny sat down for some strange reason. She knew her brother hated Malfoy and whenever she was around Draco he'd always make fun of her. Maybe it was his eyes that drew her next to him, those eyes gave away so much of his character, they looked almost lonely.
Draco could smell Ginny as she took her seat, like sunflower.
"What do you want with me Malfoy?" Ginny tried to sound annoyed but hadn't succeeded. Draco kept his eyes pinned to the little bit of purple sky left while Ginny studied his right ear.
"Why are you out here so early in the morning? Did your little boyfriend kick you out of the bed because you weren't good enough or did your father ran out of money so now you must live in this tree?" Now Draco decided to look at her and met eyes strait away. She had a short Irish nose that stuck up just a bit with freckles scattered across and onto her cheeks. Her face was small, just like her petite body, with huge dark brown eyes, long red lashes, and carefully shaped eye brows; making her look two years older. This was the first time Draco really noticed Virginia.
"Don't talk about Harry that way." Draco smirked, knowing he had touched a sensitive nerve. Ginny decided not to argue about her family's lack of money...probably because it hurt her too much to think about it.
"And why can't I talk about him in a way he deserves to be spoken about?" Draco leaned closer to Ginny, whispering. "Tell me, why were you crying?"
Coming from anyone else, that question would have been full of concern. From Malfoy, it was either taunting or teasing...she couldn't decide. "I was NOT crying."
"You're insulting my intelligence, weasel. I'm not as thick as Potter, I know what crying is when I see it." Draco seethed.
"I don't want to talk about my problems with YOU. Why would I? Give me one good reason for me to tell you, and picking fun at me doesn't count!" Draco had never understood the expression 'if looks could kill...' until now.
"Because no one else is here to listen." Draco thought his answer was very intelligent, like the sly boy he was.
"It's just that stupid girl! She's such a little whore." Ginny's eyes stung and she once again, dug her face into her freckled hands. "Punkng Parsukn."
"Are you speaking another language or are you just used to talking as if Potter's dick is in your mouth?" Draco couldn't help it; he just couldn't be sympathetic.
"I SAID, 'Fucking Parkinson!' Fuck that little bitch, I fucking HATE HER." She had to yell, she had to let it all out, she had to tell someone, even if it was Draco Malfoy.
"Please, if you're going to curse, do it properly." Draco paused. "So little first year Parkinson took away your 'big handsome' Potty?" He smirked. "You could always buy him back." Draco acted as if it were a brilliant idea. "Oh wait, I'm talking to a weasel, you don't have enough money to buy a proper quill! Never mind, then." He then sarcastically hit his forehead with the palm of his hand.
"Shut your ugly mouth, Malfoy. I don't know why I'm wasting my time with trash like you." Ginny made to stand but didn't quite make it.
A magnificently sized Masked Plover swooped from the now blue sky. Its black and gray wings cast a long shadow over the two teenagers. The bird gracefully grazed to the moist dirt. Its head was a bright yellow wrinkled skin with two black eyes deep inside its socket. The Plover somehow reminded Draco of agony. Sweet agony not of physical, but mental pain. The pain of not being able to show pleasure, sensitiveness, and affection. A pain he was most used to. This shallow bird brought its salmon clawed foot to Draco, showing him a silver envelope.
Draco took the paper, trying not to touch the creature as best he could. Ginny looked over his shoulder, trying to see the scrawl as it was opened. Draco held the parchment between his thumb and index fingers while beautiful script letters danced to form words upon the page.
Mr. Draco Lucius Malfoy,
The time has come for you to prove where you stand. In a week's time we will come, be prepared.
D.E.
Draco somberly rolled the letter back up and slipped it into his pocket. He looked for the appalling bird but saw it only as a shadow riding back in the single cloud. With a lazy sigh, Draco began back to the castle.
"Wait just a minute! I told you all of my problems, now you tell me what that whole thing was about, what does that letter say?" Ginny placed her hands on her slim waist and tapped her right foot, taking on an impression of Professor McGonagal.
"My personal matters seem to be of much more importance than your silly school-girl problems." Draco yelled over his shoulder, still walking away. Ginny now jogged to up to the 'arrogant prick'.
"They aren't silly. Malfoy, you're not being fair! C'mon, spill it!" Ginny stayed at Draco's heel, taking two steps for every of his one.
"What gave you the impression that I'm fair? I've never heard of such a word." Draco abruptly came to a halt halfway up the stone stairs to the entrance, causing Ginny to collide into him. "Watch where you're going!" Draco flattened out non-existent wrinkles in his Slytherin uniform.
"Please DRACO, just tell me!" Pleaded Ginny.
"Whoa, okay, okay, just as long as you don't call me by my first name; people might think we're friends!" Draco took the note from his pocket and handed it to the red head. Her eyebrows fitted together when read though.
"What does 'D.E.' stand for?" Ginny hoped he'd answer her question, it was the only way she'd understand the letter at all.
"You can't figure it out?" Draco rolled his frosted eyes. "D.E!" He wondered if by repeating the letters she'd get it...still a blank stare. "Don't you know what my father is? Don't you know what all Malfoy's are or will be?"
"Ooohhh!" Ginny grinned with a sign of correspondence. "Well I knew you were all Dung Eaters but I didn't know you'd actually admit it."
"Don't try to be witty, you made yourself look even worse. You have the second part correct..." Draco hinted.
"Wow, Draco. You're going to be a-a" She whispered. "Death Eater?"
"Finally, you get the bloody picture."
***
And she stirs. Pansy Parkinson rose with fake elegance to gaze into the eyes of her love, only to find he had left. She somewhat expected his departure before seeing him in the morning but couldn't bring herself to believe it. Last night had been amazing for Pansy; she cherished every second, every deep breath, and every aggressive moan. She figured she was falling in love with Draco Malfoy.
As Pansy lay deep in the wrinkled bed covers, lingering on last night, several sharp taps sounded from the gothic window to her left. With an irritated sigh, Pansy stumped out of the sheets and slumbered to the racket.
"What the fuck do you want, you ugly little thing?" Pansy asked a medium sized owl with vibrant orange eyes, speckled red and black feathers, and sharp pointy ears.
The bird only hooted and stretched out its leg with massive bloodied claws from its last hunt. Pansy untied the note and rolled the parchment open.
Mrs. Pansy Parthenia Parkinson,
The time has come for you to prove where you stand. In a week's time we will come, be prepared. Do not disappoint us this time.
D.E.
Pansy shoved the letter into a tight ball within her fist. She had defiantly messed up the last and first time she went to a death eater meeting. She disgraced herself in front of her father and mother while her sister gained all the benefits; and Brooke didn't even want the job!
She remembered that day quite clearly. Her mother, Parthenia, was in the middle of telling Pansy about a sale on evening robes when Parthenia dropped her teacup to the ground with a shatter, and clutched her left forearm. Pansy ran to her mother's side and led her to the armoire for a black robe and her mask.
Parthenia tuned to her daughter then and told her it was her time to come as well. It was her time to help their Lord live, to help him stay on this earth, even if it was only a part of him that actually stayed. Pansy only nodded and was told her sister would be doing the same.
Sure enough, when they arrived at Voldemort's manor, Brooke was waiting there, along with their father, Blake Parkinson himself. How Pansy despised her father!
The meeting ran smoothly, the only hard part of their meeting was the first look at Voldemort. It wasn't the first time Pansy had seen her Lord, its just that every time you first laid eyes on him a freezing shiver ran up your back, making small neck hairs stand.
When the meeting had ended the Dark Lord told the Parkinson's to remain. He took Pansy into a side room and after three minutes she returned, looking like she couldn't breathe.
Next, Brooke was asked to step into the room with Voldemort. He put a bony hand around her shoulder, causing her to gasp while he led her in. It took more than twenty minutes for Brooke to reappear from the door and when she did, her expression was horrified.
It was obvious that whatever was being done, Pansy had done it better. Pansy had always been better at everything than Brooke had. From a game of chess and exploding snap to magic duels and even fist fighting, Pansy was always one step closer to winning, no matter what.
On the contrary, Brooke had outdone her sister tremendously! She had received the privilege to do what every dark pureblood would love; and that annoyed Pansy terribly.
So now Pansy stood there, fixated on the view of the lake from the other side of the tinted window. She still held the letter crunched up in her hand. And Pansy did what she wasn't supposed to do, she cried.
***
Harry awoke with a faint image of a beautiful girl smiling coyly at him. Was it only a dream? Was he really with Brooke last night? Had she really given him a kiss on the cheek?
Harry smiled as he remembered it HAD happened, he HAD walked the girl to her room and she HAD kissed him goodnight. He also HAD been an absolute prick to Ginny Weasley, his GIRLFRIEND. She HAD seen the exchange between Brooke and himself and she HAD run off, away from the common room, away from his apology.
Now Harry, Golden Boy of Gryffindor, was the one in big trouble. He had come to such an opportunity he never thought possible for himself. He had to choose between two girls because he liked them both and it just wouldn't be fair to either of them if he didn't make a choice. So what was he to do?
Harry rolled on his back to stare at the top of the bed hangings. They were dark scarlet red...red-like Ginny's hair. 'She has the prettiest hair, it falls short around her face and gradually gets longer by the back, then stops before her butt. It's always pin strait and once in a while she'll put a small glittery clap in it to keep some of the smaller strands from falling into her eyes...falling into her eyes-Brooke's hair usually fell in her eyes. Brooke had stunning hair too. It was hard to describe, with all different shades of brown and blonde. Most of the dark brown hair was by her neck, and then she had light brown over that, then beautiful light strands of gold, taking up most of the mane, then selective platinum blond strands lay on top.' Harry looked thoughtful for a while. 'They're both perfect.'
Harry began to come to the conclusion that the girls were complete opposites. Brooke was calm, sly, outgoing, and cunning while Ginny demonstrated a more happily easy going, respectful, caring but at same time, scary when provoked neutrality. Their looks too were much opposite. Ginny with red hair, chocolate brown eyes, pale and freckled skin, petite body, and an amazingly cute small smile displayed with dimples was enough for Harry to fall out of bed, stunned with fascination. Brooke with dirty blond hair, gold-hazel eyes, lightly tanned skin, slim and big-breasted body, and a glistening smile was enough for Harry to get back into his bed to start some private things with himself.
He was so lucky and yet-wasn't. He had tons of weight to hold; he had the power to hurt one of the girl's feelings and make the other smile. But what if he didn't have a choice at all? Maybe Brooke didn't like him that way, maybe she just thought it polite to kiss him goodnight, it wasn't like they made out or anything. And Ginny, it could be no turning back after she saw Brooke and him together again. She had already accepted his apology once and that same day Harry screwed it all up; he really was a prick.
A prick who decided to push that matter aside. He had made his choice and he wasn't going to change his mind.
***
It was Harry Potter. She just couldn't believe it; she didn't want to believe it, but it-he-was right there clear as air (if that makes sense) in her memory. She had kissed the boy, only on the cheek, but it was nice, and she didn't regret it...until she saw the nosey little red head that was always around Harry peer from the staircase and then run away.
Was he dating her? Brooke hoped he wasn't, she hoped he would eventually be with her. He is what she needed, breathed, dreamed about. He was different from all the other guys she had ever been with. He was sweet to her when she really needed a friend, he made her laugh when she was down, he made her feel wanted, and he made her want HIM. But he was Harry Potter.
Harry Potter.
The boy who made their family a tragedy after Voldemort's fall. The boy who hated her sister. The boy who was to kill the person to be her Lord. The boy who's name was repeated by her father day, night, and in his dreams. The boy she was supposed to hate, despise, loathe, spit upon, resent, curse, and shun.
He was Harry Potter. And he was brilliantly gorgeous. Brooke couldn't stop thinking about him all of the next day. She couldn't stop staring at him at breakfast, lunch and now at dinner. He was freggin enticing.
Brooke for the millionth time looked from her plate to the enveloping boy. He sat perfectly between his friend Hermione and Ron. He didn't look happy at all and neither did his mates. Actually, Ron looked beyond anger; he was quite on the verge of a tantrum.
'What is he yelling about?' Brooke wondered then bored her eyes into Harry again. His ebony hair erratically lay stuck up in the back and down his forehead, covering the delicate scar. His eyebrows were knitted together over bewitching emerald orbs fixated on his empty dinner plate. His nose ran slender then sloped up a slight bit, accenting his fabulous high cheekbones. Then, his lips were tinged roseate, the bottom wet from his tongue. He was flawless. He was everything she wanted.
"YOU ARE SUCH AN UNGRATEFUL, ARROGANT, DISRESPECTFUL, BRAINLESS DICK!"
Brooke yanked her eyes from Harry and to his best sidekick, Ron. The whole hall became silent, every eye focused in on the two boys.
"YOU CANT TREAT MY SISTER THAT WAY! I NEVER SHOULD HAVE INCOURAGED HER TO GO OUT WITH YOU; YOU DON'T DESERVE HER!" Harry's face turned red, not from embarrassment-Brooke could tell-but from anger.
"I can be with whoever I WANT TO BE WITH and it doesn't concern you." What the hell were the boys going on about?
"SHUT THE FUCK UP! IT CONCERNS ME VERY MUCH, HOW COULD YOU CHEAT ON HER?" Ron had furious tears in his eyes while he slammed both his hands against Harry's chest, pushing him to step back.
'He's cheating on his girlfriend? He's cheating on that little red haired girl? With WHO?'
Ron fired on, "AND WITH THAT GIRL, THAT PARKINSON BITCH!" Ron pointed strait at Brooke and she could feel Harry's eyes on her too. 'OOOhhhh!' The comprehension dawned.
Brooke was about to defend herself but Harry beat her to it. "Ron, stop being so blind, it's not like that!"
"IT'S NOT LIKE WHAT-NOT LIKE WHAT-POTTER?" Ron's hair was in his face and Hermione was desperately trying to calm him down by saying things out of Brooke's hear shot.
"It's just NOT what you think, Brooke and I are FRIENDS." Harry looked again at Brooke. His eyes were pleading and the green became so open and clear that Brooke wanted to run over to him and tell him it will be alright.
"FRIENDS MY ARSE!" Ron dodged his fist right into Harry's perfect nose, spouting blood along his handsome face and Ron's freckled hand. Throaty gasps cried from the hall while the Slytherins laughed and cheered. Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall made it just in time before Harry could give Ron a right hook in the eye.
Ron whispered something so soft no one could hear, but Harry obviously did because his lips thinned together, his fingers curled to a ball, and his eyes turned to slits.
McGonagall dragged Ron Weasley out by his arm while Dumbledore escorted Harry to the hospital wing, only after Harry glanced to Brooke again.
When the both the boys were out of sight, the sight seemed to steer towards Brooke. The whole hall for once took notice Brooke was in their school; it was the first acknowledgement that she was living since the sorting three days ago. 'How did all this happen in only three days?'
Seamus Finnigan smirked and winked his brown eye at Brooke. 'What is that all about?'
The bell rang and as it did, a Vulture cast its ugly wings through the window where the owls had came during lunch. The ghastly thing landed on Brooke's clean plate and held out its leg. Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson stood on their chairs so they'd be able to see over the leaving students.
Brooke opened the parchment and read:
Mrs. Brooke Blair Parkinson,
The time has come for you to prove where you stand. In a week's time we will come, be prepared. The Lord greatly anticipates your arrival.
D.E.
'OH SHIT! The dark Lord wants me to come, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.' Brooke's hands began to tremble, shaking the paper still in her hand with her eyes fixed still upon it. She read the short letter over again and disappointment flooded as the words remained the same.
A cool, milky hand rested upon hers and gently pulled the parchment from her grasp.
"We've gotten one too." Draco implored, gesturing to Pansy.
Brooke looked to Malfoy, "I see."
Pansy nodded and walked away, like she could spare any more time with her own sister.
"Do you think we're going to be given the mark?" Brooke whispered to the blond.
"I think there is more to it than just the mark, we must have to do something. Otherwise why would all of us be called together?" Draco was talking to this Gryffindor as an equal.
"Right, well-uh-when do you think it will happen?"
"What am I, a dictionary?" Draco rolled his eyes. "They probably wont call us for a long while, they like to make us nervous for as much a time as possible."
Brooke only nodded. A silence passed and she took in some air before her next sentence. "Are we in this together Draco, I mean, are we friends?" Brooke felt only foolish, like he'd actually say yes.
"I don't have friends, Parkinson, only acquaintances, enemies, and fuck partners. But we are in this together, my choice or not."
"I see, well, I figured it would have just made it easier if we were friends." Brooke looked at the floor and fiddled with her hands.
"It's the hard way then, but if it makes you feel better, your rather uh- nice to talk to." It did make Brooke feel a bit better, although she wished she never asked.
"Alright then, I'll be seeing you Malfoy."
"Parkinson." Malfoy turned from her with a dramatic toss of his robes.
***
That's the chapter, took me long enough!
Please leave a review, I'm insecure, and I need some boosting and some constructive criticism.