The Malfoy Family Curse
By: Scarletserpent
Disclaimer: I only own Seamus Malfoy and the Evil and the Good and all those fun people, I do not own Harry Potter, or any other characters from the Harry Potter series. They belong to the brilliant J.K. Rowling.
Rating: R for future slash and a little bit of language... nothing serious here.
Warnings: None really, except mind that there is talk of gods and the Devil, and resurrection in the Prologue here.
Summary: 5,000 years ago Seamus Malfoy bargained with Evil for his family to live again after their horrific deaths of a strange disease. Evil grants his wish, but in return the Malfoy family must serve Evil for all of eternity... Can anything break this curse? Or anyone?
A/N: Yay! Back to the future! (Which was a great movie, in case you didn't know!) Yes, well, I will be trying to update weekly, or more if possible. And, here are my reviewer thank-yous!
Midnightblues: Thank you very much! I was aiming for being original, and I am glad that I succeeded! I'm glad you think my story is well written. I hope you enjoy the rest!
MySlytherinMind: Lol, I have no idea where the ideas come from. If I did, I would probably live there 24/7. I'm glad you like it!
Sak: I'm glad you think that it is an interesting place to begin a story. I hate boring stories! So, the fact that you think it's interesting is awesome! Lol, we will see about Good and Evil. I rather like Evil myself... But then again, I created him.
Beatrix Malfoy Delacour: Thank you so much for reviewing! I fully intend to continue! Enjoy!
To everyone else: Enjoy! And please R&R!! Onto the story!
Chapter 2: The Curse
Harry Potter was horribly claustrophobic, he supposed this was a result of living in a tiny broom closet for the first eleven years of his life. But, perhaps not. At the moment, he was, yet again, curled up in a tiny ball on a too small bed, in the broom closet under the stairs. Sweat poured from his brow as he muttered comforting words to himself. The nightmares had increased significantly over the summer, and this time his imprisonment in the cupboard was a direct result of them. He had lied so many times to Snape and Professor Dumbledore about using his Legilimency skills. To be honest, he felt wrong when he blocked out the screaming and pain that Voldemort created; he felt that he deserved it.
He had awoken, screaming, sweating, and crying out just an hour before. Uncle Vernon, his guardian until he was eighteen, had come into his small bedroom, his face purple with rage, and had dragged Harry out of bed by his wild, tangled mess of hair. Harry had never liked his uncle, but he had never considered himself to 'hate' the older man, until he had begun to throw Harry back into the closet when he woke up to a nightmare. Uncle Vernon had hauled Harry downstairs and shoved him into the closet, muttering, 'Screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night,' 'Seventeen bloody years old my arse,' and other such hardly discernable things.
Usually Harry awoke from nightmares of Sirius' death two years ago, and Voldemort's attacks-to-be. This evening his nightmare had been quite a bit different, and he didn't know exactly why he had been screaming. After all, it was just Malfoy. Yes, he had dreamed of Malfoy, being pulled into a deep, black abyss. And before that there had been a man, who looked remarkably like Malfoy himself, saying those terrible words. The words... how those words burned into him. He could only remember snatches of the dream, but those words would stay with him forever.
Harry shivered, pulling the threadbare blanket on what was once his bed about him tightly. Those words had been so Dark and so terrible. 'Just a dream, just a dream, just a dream...' Harry repeated in his head. But, he knew that this wasn't true; nothing was ever 'just a dream' with him. He was fucking Harry Potter, the Boy Who Fucking Lived. Harry scowled to himself at the thought, he hated being Harry Potter. Why couldn't he be just Harry? He wondered what was happening with Malfoy right now. That black siphon had looked so terribly real, and it reminded him of how he had last seen Sirius.
Harry looked around himself, unable to make out anything on the walls or ceiling. He knew very well that they were blank, and that there was a crack right above where his head was, but couldn't see them. His glasses lay upstairs in his room. If there was anything worse than being trapped in a small space after a nightmare about someone you hate, then it was being stuck there without your sight. Harry squeezed his eyes shut, willing the confusion and dizziness away.
And finally, let go of his legs, stretching them away from his chest, and lay down on the too small bed, forcing himself to replace the thoughts of Malfoy and Death with those of meeting his friends at Diagon Alley next week. And with this, he willed himself to sleep.
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Two Weeks Later… At Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Harry had settled quite nicely into his home at Hogwarts, as he had every year since he was eleven. It was hard for him to fathom that this was his seventh, and final, year. The nightmares had not ceased since that night two weeks ago. Voldemort had managed beyond his normal feelings, to even stronger, more potent ones, and he killed so many in that short time. After his first night back at Hogwarts, Harry had learned to put a Silencing Charm around his bed. Ron had woken him, concerned, after having been awoken by Harry's pleading screams. He didn't know how, but somehow Harry had managed to lie his way out of it.
The first day back Harry had been relieved to see Malfoy on the train, just as surly and cruel as usual, if not more so. Harry supposed that it must have been strange to be home for the second summer without his father. He had even tried to be nice to the blonde boy, but to no avail. Malfoy had been more cruel than he had in all their years at Hogwarts. Harry cringed a bit at the memory, and decided that it was time to get up, even though it was long before he had to go to breakfast.
The mornings had gone like this the whole summer; he rarely got any more than five hours of sleep. While in the Dursley's house he had been cramped in his cupboard for hours, he could escape from the room in the mornings at Hogwarts. He took these early morning opportunities to get outside, and walk around the lake. Harry found these walks to be the best part of his day, quiet and reflective.
This morning he decided to head to the kitchens to get a bit of toast before he left for the lake. He grabbed his Invisibility Cloak and silently thanked his dead father for the convenience. Shaking himself slightly, he threw the cloak over himself and proceeded to the portrait of the fruit. Being quite deep in thoughts of his father, he almost missed the figure walking towards him, muttering under it's breath. He didn't miss the other person, however, he did manage to run straight into them.
"Wha?!" The other boy fell over, Harry landing squarely on top of him. The boy stirred a bit, turning his head, and it was at this point Harry realized that it was none other than Draco Malfoy.
"Shit," He whispered under his breath.
"What the hell?" Malfoy seemed to be coming to.
Harry rolled off of the bewildered boy, and opened his mouth to make up some flimsy excuse, when he noticed the wild look on Malfoy's face. 'What is wrong with him?' Harry wondered to himself. He seemed to be looking for something, his eyes searching frantically around the corridor. Harry was utterly confused, until he recalled that he had his invisibility cloak on. With this thought, he stood quietly, and moved to the opposite side of the corridor, praying that Malfoy would just think he had tripped.
"Hello?" Malfoy actually sounded… scared? Malfoy was never scared. This was something new. Harry gaped at the figure, now crouched in a protective position on the floor.
Harry wanted to reach out to him, reassure him that it was not some evil creature, but just clumsy Potter. Wait... since when did he care what Malfoy felt? If the roles had been reversed Malfoy would be snickering under the Cloak, running off to tell his little cronies. Harry could just imagine the sickening tone in his voice, 'Poor little Potter, nearly pissed himself he was so scared!' Yes, that was exactly the thing Malfoy would do. So then, why did he care?
He sighed to himself, and Malfoy's head whipped around to face him. "I know that someone is there. Show yourself or I will start throwing hexes." Malfoy leveled his wand right where Harry's left arm was.
Harry could have moved away from the wandpoint easily, and escaped back to his dormitory without Malfoy having been any the wiser, but, after all, he was Harry Potter. He lowered the hood of the Cloak. Malfoy gaped at him. 'Well,' Harry mused. 'It must be a bit odd to just see a floating head.' And with that, he took the rest of the cloak off of himself.
"P-Potter?!" Malfoy spat out, looking completely dumfounded.
Harry wondered whether this was his cue to leave, but found himself unable to move.
"What… Why… Huh?" Harry had never seen Malfoy so inarticulate, and if it had been any other time, he would have laughed.
"Is there something you wanted to say, Malfoy?"
Harry could see Malfoy bristle at this, "What in bloody hell are you doing?!"
"Well, I don't see why that is any of your business."
"You nearly gave me a heart attack Potter! I think that makes it my business!"
By now, Harry was regretting his decision to reveal himself to Malfoy, he should have known that the boy would take it badly. After all, Malfoy reacted badly to everything that Harry did these days. He remembered the last time they had fought, the day before. Harry had been walking down the corridor, and Malfoy had just picked a fight. It was as if he was trying to prove something. Prove something, some small bell was ringing in Harry's head. The words.
He didn't even realize he was doing it, but he said quite clearly, in a deeper voice than his own, "Those who take the Oath beware, the Evil you will always bear. All Good in your heart is leveled, For true love never seeks out those of the Devil. Forebear to the wicked and shameless, To serve forever the evil, in the blood of Seamus..."
For a moment, Malfoy stood, rooted to the spot, his eyes widened in fear. He knew those words, Harry could feel it. Without warning, Malfoy turned on his heel, and ran. Harry watched him as he disappeared around the corner. What was that all about? Honestly, he hadn't even realized he was saying the words until he had said them. And why in hell had Malfoy run away like that?
Harry shook his head, and decided to just let it drop for now. He continued out to the lake, but found his thoughts wandering back to the strange words. What was the Oath? Who was Seamus? And what did Malfoy have to do with all of this nonsense? Obviously the words had scared the shit out of him. He had never seen Malfoy look so frightened in his entire life. In fact, he hadn't seen Malfoy look frightened for a long time. The other boy had hardened to become another Lucius Malfoy it seemed.
Deciding that peace would not come until he found out what was going on, he headed back to the school. He wasn't going to go research it like his life depended on it, as Hermione might have. No, Harry had a different, more direct, idea. He had always been on the rash side, not really considering what he was doing until he was doing it. Hermione had always told him that it was a miracle he hadn't been killed yet. But, as he hadn't been killed, he was always spontaneous, and this was why he was on his way back to his dormitory to get the Maurader's Map.
Having found the map, he left the dormitory, and headed down to outside the portrait again. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good," Harry said to the map. The whole of the Hogwarts grounds were shown, and after having searched the map for a while he found himself bewildered. Malfoy's dot was nowhere near the Slytherin dungeons, it said that Malfoy was right behind him.
"Useless piece of..." Harry was interrupted by a familiar drawl coming from behind him.
"Damn it, where is that bugger? This is where the Gryffindor dormitories are, isn't it?"
Harry froze, swearing to himself that he would never not believe the map again. He turned around slowly, and found Malfoy looking at the empty portrait of the Fat Lady; she had left to visit Violet after Harry had exited moments before. Harry smirked to himself, so Malfoy was looking for him, eh? He had been the one to run away in the first place. Just as he was about to reveal himself, Malfoy slumped his shoulders and sank to the ground.
"How perfectly miserable," Malfoy began, leaning against the wall. "That Gryffindor prat is not here. Even if he were, what would I say? 'Oh, hello Potter. Where did you hear that ancient curse?' What utter cosh." The boy looked completely defeated.
Harry blanched, curse? Wait a minute... the dream... those words were a curse... a curse on the family. Oh. Gods. No. That was a curse? What the hell? Harry decided this was a good time to reveal himself, and pulled the cloak off himself. Malfoy didn't notice, as his head was in his hands. He was still mumbling things about curses and stupid Gryffindors.
"Errr... Malfoy?" Harry began, inching towards the other boy.
Malfoy squeaked and jumped about three feet into the air, his wand out in a flash. He looked down at Harry, who was trying valiantly not to smile.
Harry got to his feet and said, "About that curse..."
Malfoy looked pissed, no he looked frighteningly livid. "Don't. Ever. Sneak. Up. On. Me. EVER. AGAIN!" He half shrieked.
"Uhh... right. No invisibility cloak next time. Gotcha."
Malfoy stared at him for the second time that night. Something seemed to register in his mind, and he said, "Were you spying on me?"
"Not exactly. It's more like I just keep running into you completely by accident. Well, I was looking for you, but I didn't intend to find you here... and I thought the Map was wrong and... oh hell, whatever." Harry was just confusing himself. Maybe he should be getting some more sleep.
"Map? Wait, no I don't want to know right now," Malfoy said, as Harry opened his mouth to speak. "The curse. You said the damned curse."
"Curse?" Harry smacked himself mentally, right, the curse. "Oh yeah, the Oath thing."
"What was that all about anyway?" They both said at the same time. Both lowered their heads, completely embarrassed.
Malfoy spoke first, "Okay, where did you hear that?"
"Umm..." Harry wasn't exactly sure he wanted to reveal that he dreamt it, or that he had been dreaming about Malfoy, of all people.
"Well...?" Malfoy tapped his foot impatiently.
"You see... I... er... well..." Harry stuttered. Why was this so difficult?
"Just spit it out Potter!"
"I had a dream the other night. You were, well, you were talking to some guy that looked a hell of a lot like you..."
Malfoy interrupted, "Dreaming of me, were you?" He smirked evilly. "Well, I suppose I am so very irresistable."
"It was not like that!" Harry blushed. "Do you want me to tell you or not?" At a reluctant nod from Malfoy he continued, "You and the guy were talking, and I don't know what you were saying. You were in some desert kind of place, I don't really know where. Anyway, you were talking, and I have no idea what you were saying. But, I heard him say those words... that... curse?" He trailed off a bit, as he watched Malfoy become increasingly pale.
"You heard a man, that looked like me, say the curse?" Malfoy asked in a deadly whisper.
"Well, yes." Harry was the frightened one now. He did not like the look on Malfoy's face one bit. What was going on?!
Malfoy sank to the ground again, burying his face in his hands. Harry sat down next to him, and reached out to pat his back. But, before he could, Malfoy began to speak, and he snatched his hand back, feeling a bit silly. "It was real? It can't be real. It can't be real."
"Umm... pardon me for asking... but, what exactly isn't real?" Harry was becoming more confused.
Malfoy snapped his head up, looking at Harry directly, "I don't know!! That's the thing... I just remember the desert, and the curse, like burning fire, and..." He looked lost, and turned his head down again. "I can't remember the rest."
"Well, if you don't remember it, then how do you know it's a curse?"
Malfoy looked at him ruefully, "Potter, those words are Evil. An ancient kind of Magick. I researched it in the library. They are bound to my soul apparently."
"Wait a minute, did you say the words... burned?" Harry began to shiver slightly.
"Yes Potter, burned. Bet you didn't know that words could burn. Well, they can."
"No... that wasn't it." Harry said, looking pointedly down at his toes. "Did it feel kind of like fire all over your body? Kind of centered around your heart?"
Malfoy was staring at him again, he could feel it, but refused to look up. "Yes Potter, that is exactly how it felt. How did you know that?"
Crap. Feeling what someone else was feeling could not be a good thing. "Umm... yeah. You see, when the guy that looked like you said the words, it felt like that."
"You felt it too?" Malfoy asked incredulously.
"Yes," Harry replied, looking up at the other boy. "Is that bad?"
"Is it bad?! Yes it is bad! They're bound to you too! Oh this is just great!" Malfoy sounded like he was going to cry.
"What exactly does being bound to words have to do with anything?" Harry tried to take Malfoy's mind off of whatever was making him so upset. The thought of Malfoy crying was a little bit too much.
"When you are bound to a curse, it becomes your duty to find out what the curse means. Don't ask me why, it's ancient stuff."
"Okay..."
"I don't know what any of this has to do with you though! There was nothing about it binding to another person!" Malfoy nearly wailed.
At the loudness of Malfoy's voice Harry realized that everyone would be up soon. "Look, Malfoy, how about we talk about all of this later?"
Malfoy looked around, seeing the light pouring in from the windows of the castle. "Right, meet me in the Charms room, midnight."
"Why do you get to choose?" Harry asked indignantly.
"Because, Potter, I am a Malfoy, and I do not take orders." Malfoy replied haughtily, and turned on his heel, leaving Harry to watch him walk off for the second time that morning.
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"Well then, at least the Chosen are speaking to each-other now." The Good commented, after watching these events. "Now, how to keep Evil from ruining everything..."
"How to keep me from what now?!" The Evil had snuck up behind her, still incapable of doing anything until the day before.
"Ahh yes, there you are." The Good cursed it's luck.
"Ahh yes, here I am. What is going on? You are not messing with my plans, are you?" The Evil took a threatening step towards the Good.
"No," The Good said truthfully. In all honesty it was the Evil that was messing with Fate's plans.
The Evil eyed the Good suspiciously, "Right." The Evil stalked off, still miffed about the whole cursing thing from earlier. It was time to have a talk with Fate again.