Author's notes:
Before I forget. Spoilers for book 5. Thought I'd better warn people, of and spoilers for book 2. Harry Potter. Just letting you know.
1 Review. Thanks, reading it cheered me right up Nice to know that someone's interested and is waiting for the next chapter. Okay I've probably already given away everything but never mind, I'm happy with what I've got and I'm still looking for a Beta reader who will read this through. Any volunteers? Feel free to email me.
Okay please remember to review, it won't make a difference as to how fast I post, that is judged by whether or not I've got some inspiration. But with reviews I can find out what you think about how this is going.
Oh and as far as I'm aware, I still don't own anything, as said in first chapter, and that this might be an original idea, if that sort of thing exists within the crossover world. Dunno, we'll have to see.
Sorry about the whole update mess up. I added this chapter and then several things came to my notice that were wrong with it so I pulled it back down again, about 30 minutes after putting it up, and have worked on it until I'm happy. I'm now happy with it. Let me know how happy YOU are with it?
Well, have fun reading. Chidlywhoo.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Pushing a box aside against the wall he finally collapsed onto the dust- ridden floor of the attic. He'd cleared a large space in the centre where he could now, or later, depending on when he could move again look through various things that had been in the family for generations. He glared at the ceiling. He was furious that he'd been forced to do this kind of work himself. All he'd wanted to do was look through the paintings of his ancestors, but his mother had gone and insulted him when she had seen him up there searching through the boxes saying that if he had wanted to clean the attic he should have said. This was work, after all wasn't that what house-elves were for? And if you didn't have them then that's what you paid servants for. However, those thoughts only reminded him about the end of his second year when their house-elf have been taken away from them by the boy people worshiped, Harry Potter. And that same person had taken his father away from him, for over 3 weeks his father had been locked away within the prison of Azkaban, so what if it wasn't full of dementors? They had published it in the Daily Prophet that his father was a recognised death eater and had been charged as one.
He knew that it was only a limited amount of time before the Dark Lord would break them out but he wasn't sure if that mattered.
Him and his mother were still allowed to keep the mansion they considered home and everything that wasn't an item connected with the Dark arts. But it still hurt to see ministry workers taking away their things.
Summoning some strength he sat up and moved himself next to a giant box labelled: Paintings. He knew that inside was the picture of every single member of his family, even those who had been traitorous to the blood line, not that there were many, but those who had, their portrait had been stamped upon, you could still see the painting and vaguely hear what they were saying. But there was a spell upon the stamper, which made any words spoken that were traitorous mute. This box was the reason he'd opened the lock on the door into the attic and scaled the stairs into the attic.
He started to go through the paintings, one by one he was going backwards through the generations, he was the latest one, well it was a family portrait that was painted just before he had started Hogwarts, a week before he'd taken the trip to Diagon Alley and first met Potter. He hadn't realised it at the time, he knew that there was something off about that kid when he'd met him. The next family painting was one where his father was in the centre with his own parents behind him. He smiled as he started backwards through time.
He was still there at midday when the maid came up with a tray of simple sandwiches and a goblet of pumpkin juice. He frowned at her, sure she made good food but the girl still hadn't gotten the fact that she was supposed to stay and ask if there was anything else he wanted before running off. He figured that she was scared of him. Which was good but it didn't help when he needed something. He made a mental note to tell his mother this note and get her pay docked.
After a refreshing luncheon he turned back to the portraits, so far he'd enjoyed looking through all of the family, he could name most of them from the tapestry in their dinning room, which they had enlarged to intimidate visitors they didn't like and impress those they did.
He pulled out the next painting it was a family. A boy no older than 10 and his mother behind him to one side as if the father had just run off for a moment to do something. He frowned at it, there was something wrong. He just knew it. There was a place for the man and squinting at it he wondered if there had been a man painted there but had been painted over at a later date.
He glimpsed at the names of those in the picture briefly and then put it back inside the box stood up, brushing dust off of his casual robes, and walked back down the steps and through the door into the main house. His speed was brisk, almost rushed, he wanted to know who the man had been and why had he been painted out of the picture. He nearly ran down the main staircase leading to the ground level, it seemed as if this wanting for knowledge was eating him alive. Something he hadn't experienced before, he knew what wanting to know things was like but this was more. Even in his second year when he'd asked his father about the Chamber of Secrets and he'd been denied information he had just shrugged and let it be. It hadn't bugged him like this. So this was important; after all it was about his heritage and previous family members. Perhaps the man had been a blood traitor in the days before they had the stamps? He didn't know, but he desperately wanted to.
He opened the double doors to the dining room, solid oak doors with brass handles that gleamed, they had been golden ones but those had been taken away my the ministry and been replaced with plain brass ones. He didn't notice them, like he usually did, as he moved over to the wall with the enlarged family tree. He scanned pictures for the girl or the boy. His eyes were whizzing up and around the large tapestry trying to find them, they had to be somewhere. He didn't think that either of them looked like any other purebloods he could think of.
He was getting furious; he'd tried several centuries ago, their clothes looked almost as old as that. But he guessed not and started downwards. Still scanning, looking for the right one.
There! In amongst a large amount of males was a lone girl; she was the one in the picture. He looked at her name. Lalita Malfoy, he frowned, he looked for who she married but it didn't say. And neither did her brothers according to the tapestry. Yet she was the only one to bear children, no a child. A male. Looking around he couldn't find any others who were liable to carry on the name at the time her brothers had died during their teens or just after 20, he frowned, and he was descended from some girl who had a child without marriage? Yet who was the man, he was certain that it wasn't any of his brothers so the picture had to be of the father? Did he die before he could marry her? Did he leave her and that was why he was painted out? It didn't make any sense.
"Draco! Have you finished the attic?" Came a voice, Draco looked around to see his mother standing in the doorway. "No mother." He replied, glancing back at the tapestry "Well what on earth are you doing down here! Get back up there this instant. Why you're suddenly looking at the family history is a complete mystery to me" She came back with shaking her head. "There was a painting, a mother and her son but the father has been painted over. I just wanted to see who that father was. Because as far as I can tell from the tapestry he saved our family name." Draco explained, heading towards his mother. "What are you going on about Draco?" She asked her tone was impatient. "Lalita Malfoy mother. She didn't marry but had a lone child, a son who carried on the Malfoy name. I found her picture in the attic amongst the other family portraits and where the boys father should be, well it's been painted over mother and I was curious as to who it was." Draco explained. "Oh. Him. Well, he was just a pureblooded man who produced the child and then left or died or something happened to him before he could marry her. As I said Draco, forget about it. Now go back and finish what you started." She ordered. "Yes mother" Draco replied and headed back up his pace was subdued whilst his mind tried to understand what he could about the man. After all, his family had descended from this man; he had saved the Malfoy family from being just another pureblood family line being forgotten. And yet, if he had married Lalita then again the Malfoy name would have been lost.
Draco was amazed at how this one man could have destroyed the entire line of Malfoy's with just the simple act of marriage.
"Master Draco" Another feminine voice called out. Draco turned around; he'd only gotten to the top of the grand staircase. He saw that it was the maid; he couldn't remember the girl's name. Not that it mattered. "What?" He said simply. "A package sir, just arrived by owl for you. It's been checked for the usual things, and some of the unusual ones as well sir. Whatever it is, there aren't any spells that will try and harm you." She said with a timid smile. She was tall, for a woman at 5'8" and her hair was a soft mahogany colour, her eyes were a sea blue. She might have been considered nice by many a boy. But Draco didn't. He couldn't be bothered with them at the moment, sure he liked a few here and there but he wasn't ready to settle with anyone. Draco remembered her words, 'yes trying to harm me, that wasn't pleasant' it had been the first day of the holidays and a parcel had arrived in the usual flock of owl post and it had been for him. He'd opened it up and found that within was a rather nasty hex, which gave him boils all over his body as well as speak in gibberish. Draco had been cured by the family healer and was back to normal by the end of the third day of the holidays but it hadn't been a nice experience. Now all mail was checked.
Draco held out his hand and the maid put the package into it and then gave a small curtsey and turned away to go back to whatever it was that she was doing. Draco tried to judge the weight, it wasn't heavy but wasn't light either. He checked all the sides trying to figure who it was from, no label.
"Draco! Stop standing around. I don't care what it is. Just get back into the attic!" Draco rolled his eyes; his mother could be so annoying at times. Times like this. He walked back through the house and was soon back in the attic; he sat down where he had lain earlier and crossed his legs, placing the package in front of him on the floor.
"I haven't ordered anything." He told himself and then opened the brown wrapping paper, piece by piece until he saw a cardboard box. He lifted the top and inside was a ball on a chain, the ball looked odd, he picked it up to try and determine what kind of stones were imbedded into the ball. Lifting it into the muted light that came from a dusty and cobweb covered window not far behind him and was currently above his head in height, he looked at the picture it showed on the floor. Draco frowned.
Dust swirled in the room, Draco didn't notice, he was looking at the light on the floor, a shadow was forming bit by bit. He looked at the ball and saw that it was glowing, he chucked it forwards as he moved backwards, looking at his hand he noticed the signs of a very light burning, nothing that a simple balm could solve, but his attention was elsewhere.
Next he heard a chuckle, although it sounded backwards and it freaked him out, things in the magical world didn't really freak him out, he'd seen a lot of strange things but this was beyond that.
He scrambled backwards and hit a box and gave a small squeal and looked back to see it was just a box.
The dust suddenly started to form a shape, just like the shadow had done.
Then something came from the bottom of the box, it looked like ashes, and it reformed itself into the shape of a person.
Draco was stunned, what else could he be. He'd just seen dust change into a man.
Before I forget. Spoilers for book 5. Thought I'd better warn people, of and spoilers for book 2. Harry Potter. Just letting you know.
1 Review. Thanks, reading it cheered me right up Nice to know that someone's interested and is waiting for the next chapter. Okay I've probably already given away everything but never mind, I'm happy with what I've got and I'm still looking for a Beta reader who will read this through. Any volunteers? Feel free to email me.
Okay please remember to review, it won't make a difference as to how fast I post, that is judged by whether or not I've got some inspiration. But with reviews I can find out what you think about how this is going.
Oh and as far as I'm aware, I still don't own anything, as said in first chapter, and that this might be an original idea, if that sort of thing exists within the crossover world. Dunno, we'll have to see.
Sorry about the whole update mess up. I added this chapter and then several things came to my notice that were wrong with it so I pulled it back down again, about 30 minutes after putting it up, and have worked on it until I'm happy. I'm now happy with it. Let me know how happy YOU are with it?
Well, have fun reading. Chidlywhoo.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Pushing a box aside against the wall he finally collapsed onto the dust- ridden floor of the attic. He'd cleared a large space in the centre where he could now, or later, depending on when he could move again look through various things that had been in the family for generations. He glared at the ceiling. He was furious that he'd been forced to do this kind of work himself. All he'd wanted to do was look through the paintings of his ancestors, but his mother had gone and insulted him when she had seen him up there searching through the boxes saying that if he had wanted to clean the attic he should have said. This was work, after all wasn't that what house-elves were for? And if you didn't have them then that's what you paid servants for. However, those thoughts only reminded him about the end of his second year when their house-elf have been taken away from them by the boy people worshiped, Harry Potter. And that same person had taken his father away from him, for over 3 weeks his father had been locked away within the prison of Azkaban, so what if it wasn't full of dementors? They had published it in the Daily Prophet that his father was a recognised death eater and had been charged as one.
He knew that it was only a limited amount of time before the Dark Lord would break them out but he wasn't sure if that mattered.
Him and his mother were still allowed to keep the mansion they considered home and everything that wasn't an item connected with the Dark arts. But it still hurt to see ministry workers taking away their things.
Summoning some strength he sat up and moved himself next to a giant box labelled: Paintings. He knew that inside was the picture of every single member of his family, even those who had been traitorous to the blood line, not that there were many, but those who had, their portrait had been stamped upon, you could still see the painting and vaguely hear what they were saying. But there was a spell upon the stamper, which made any words spoken that were traitorous mute. This box was the reason he'd opened the lock on the door into the attic and scaled the stairs into the attic.
He started to go through the paintings, one by one he was going backwards through the generations, he was the latest one, well it was a family portrait that was painted just before he had started Hogwarts, a week before he'd taken the trip to Diagon Alley and first met Potter. He hadn't realised it at the time, he knew that there was something off about that kid when he'd met him. The next family painting was one where his father was in the centre with his own parents behind him. He smiled as he started backwards through time.
He was still there at midday when the maid came up with a tray of simple sandwiches and a goblet of pumpkin juice. He frowned at her, sure she made good food but the girl still hadn't gotten the fact that she was supposed to stay and ask if there was anything else he wanted before running off. He figured that she was scared of him. Which was good but it didn't help when he needed something. He made a mental note to tell his mother this note and get her pay docked.
After a refreshing luncheon he turned back to the portraits, so far he'd enjoyed looking through all of the family, he could name most of them from the tapestry in their dinning room, which they had enlarged to intimidate visitors they didn't like and impress those they did.
He pulled out the next painting it was a family. A boy no older than 10 and his mother behind him to one side as if the father had just run off for a moment to do something. He frowned at it, there was something wrong. He just knew it. There was a place for the man and squinting at it he wondered if there had been a man painted there but had been painted over at a later date.
He glimpsed at the names of those in the picture briefly and then put it back inside the box stood up, brushing dust off of his casual robes, and walked back down the steps and through the door into the main house. His speed was brisk, almost rushed, he wanted to know who the man had been and why had he been painted out of the picture. He nearly ran down the main staircase leading to the ground level, it seemed as if this wanting for knowledge was eating him alive. Something he hadn't experienced before, he knew what wanting to know things was like but this was more. Even in his second year when he'd asked his father about the Chamber of Secrets and he'd been denied information he had just shrugged and let it be. It hadn't bugged him like this. So this was important; after all it was about his heritage and previous family members. Perhaps the man had been a blood traitor in the days before they had the stamps? He didn't know, but he desperately wanted to.
He opened the double doors to the dining room, solid oak doors with brass handles that gleamed, they had been golden ones but those had been taken away my the ministry and been replaced with plain brass ones. He didn't notice them, like he usually did, as he moved over to the wall with the enlarged family tree. He scanned pictures for the girl or the boy. His eyes were whizzing up and around the large tapestry trying to find them, they had to be somewhere. He didn't think that either of them looked like any other purebloods he could think of.
He was getting furious; he'd tried several centuries ago, their clothes looked almost as old as that. But he guessed not and started downwards. Still scanning, looking for the right one.
There! In amongst a large amount of males was a lone girl; she was the one in the picture. He looked at her name. Lalita Malfoy, he frowned, he looked for who she married but it didn't say. And neither did her brothers according to the tapestry. Yet she was the only one to bear children, no a child. A male. Looking around he couldn't find any others who were liable to carry on the name at the time her brothers had died during their teens or just after 20, he frowned, and he was descended from some girl who had a child without marriage? Yet who was the man, he was certain that it wasn't any of his brothers so the picture had to be of the father? Did he die before he could marry her? Did he leave her and that was why he was painted out? It didn't make any sense.
"Draco! Have you finished the attic?" Came a voice, Draco looked around to see his mother standing in the doorway. "No mother." He replied, glancing back at the tapestry "Well what on earth are you doing down here! Get back up there this instant. Why you're suddenly looking at the family history is a complete mystery to me" She came back with shaking her head. "There was a painting, a mother and her son but the father has been painted over. I just wanted to see who that father was. Because as far as I can tell from the tapestry he saved our family name." Draco explained, heading towards his mother. "What are you going on about Draco?" She asked her tone was impatient. "Lalita Malfoy mother. She didn't marry but had a lone child, a son who carried on the Malfoy name. I found her picture in the attic amongst the other family portraits and where the boys father should be, well it's been painted over mother and I was curious as to who it was." Draco explained. "Oh. Him. Well, he was just a pureblooded man who produced the child and then left or died or something happened to him before he could marry her. As I said Draco, forget about it. Now go back and finish what you started." She ordered. "Yes mother" Draco replied and headed back up his pace was subdued whilst his mind tried to understand what he could about the man. After all, his family had descended from this man; he had saved the Malfoy family from being just another pureblood family line being forgotten. And yet, if he had married Lalita then again the Malfoy name would have been lost.
Draco was amazed at how this one man could have destroyed the entire line of Malfoy's with just the simple act of marriage.
"Master Draco" Another feminine voice called out. Draco turned around; he'd only gotten to the top of the grand staircase. He saw that it was the maid; he couldn't remember the girl's name. Not that it mattered. "What?" He said simply. "A package sir, just arrived by owl for you. It's been checked for the usual things, and some of the unusual ones as well sir. Whatever it is, there aren't any spells that will try and harm you." She said with a timid smile. She was tall, for a woman at 5'8" and her hair was a soft mahogany colour, her eyes were a sea blue. She might have been considered nice by many a boy. But Draco didn't. He couldn't be bothered with them at the moment, sure he liked a few here and there but he wasn't ready to settle with anyone. Draco remembered her words, 'yes trying to harm me, that wasn't pleasant' it had been the first day of the holidays and a parcel had arrived in the usual flock of owl post and it had been for him. He'd opened it up and found that within was a rather nasty hex, which gave him boils all over his body as well as speak in gibberish. Draco had been cured by the family healer and was back to normal by the end of the third day of the holidays but it hadn't been a nice experience. Now all mail was checked.
Draco held out his hand and the maid put the package into it and then gave a small curtsey and turned away to go back to whatever it was that she was doing. Draco tried to judge the weight, it wasn't heavy but wasn't light either. He checked all the sides trying to figure who it was from, no label.
"Draco! Stop standing around. I don't care what it is. Just get back into the attic!" Draco rolled his eyes; his mother could be so annoying at times. Times like this. He walked back through the house and was soon back in the attic; he sat down where he had lain earlier and crossed his legs, placing the package in front of him on the floor.
"I haven't ordered anything." He told himself and then opened the brown wrapping paper, piece by piece until he saw a cardboard box. He lifted the top and inside was a ball on a chain, the ball looked odd, he picked it up to try and determine what kind of stones were imbedded into the ball. Lifting it into the muted light that came from a dusty and cobweb covered window not far behind him and was currently above his head in height, he looked at the picture it showed on the floor. Draco frowned.
Dust swirled in the room, Draco didn't notice, he was looking at the light on the floor, a shadow was forming bit by bit. He looked at the ball and saw that it was glowing, he chucked it forwards as he moved backwards, looking at his hand he noticed the signs of a very light burning, nothing that a simple balm could solve, but his attention was elsewhere.
Next he heard a chuckle, although it sounded backwards and it freaked him out, things in the magical world didn't really freak him out, he'd seen a lot of strange things but this was beyond that.
He scrambled backwards and hit a box and gave a small squeal and looked back to see it was just a box.
The dust suddenly started to form a shape, just like the shadow had done.
Then something came from the bottom of the box, it looked like ashes, and it reformed itself into the shape of a person.
Draco was stunned, what else could he be. He'd just seen dust change into a man.