Warning: This is a slash fiction involving the pairing of Harry and Draco.
If you don't go for that, don't read.
Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me. They all belong to that wonderful author J.K. Rowling. I'm jealous.
Author's Note: This is my first fanfiction here, so please be gentle. *Smiles* And I would love if you could read and review. (
Enjoy...
~~~~
"F-Father...I..." A stuttering Draco Malfoy crouched helplessly in the corner of the Slytherin Common Room, his long, pale fingers clutching his wand tightly to stop the long piece of divine wood from slipping from his trembling grasp. A small drop of blood trickled down his chin from where he was biting down on his lip to stop from crying out in pain. A dark green aura was surrounding Draco's submitted position on his knees, radiating from a wand pointing in his direction. It slowly disappeared, leaving the sixteen year old Slytherin gasping for breath.
"Get to your feet, Draco." The harsh, whispered words escaped through barely-parting cold lips, veiling a certain malice that triggered something in Draco's subconscious that made him, out of reflex, obey. Slowly, the slim, silver haired boy rose, his legs threatening to give way at any given moment. As his face rose to meet Lucius Malfoy's metal eyes, mirroring his own. They were not unlike each other. The same silvery blond hair, the same eyes. However the younger Malfoy did not posses the same sharp, cruel features of his father. Instead, Draco had inherited the beautiful features of his Mother – a perfectly sculptured jaw line, soft, magnificent features rarely seen. However, that steely glare boring into him at that very moment...Draco looked away. His eyes which once had the potential to become just like those ones...now broken grey.
One pale hand reached up, coming to the side of Draco's perfect face, making him flinch. A cruel smile etched its way along Lucius' lips at the sight of his cowering son. His hand, still suspended in the air next to Draco's face, rose and swept away a few soft strands of light hair falling in front of his son's eyes before letting his hand linger at his forehead. Draco swallowed, feeling his aching body be overcome with a terrible chill that made his bones feel like ice. Fear was all he could feel now. His mind went blank. Numb. Everything was black, except for the potent man in front of him.
Staring at Draco, all emotion drained from his face. No amusement sparked his dangerous face. No love or compassion flicked in the swirls of thunderous grey. Nothing. In a barely audible whisper, Lucius' lips parted as he breathed, "The Dark Lord expects more than this. You know your place. And you will take that place. Mark my words, Draco." And with that, Draco felt Lucius' cold hand grab his neck throwing him back against the wall behind him with a thud. His lithe body slid down the dark green wall until he was on the floor, his head feeling like a lead weight had landed on it. Opening his eyes, he caught one last glimpse of his father exiting the Slytherin Common Room, leaving behind a cold wind that ruffled Draco's hair. Dragging his legs up until his knees were against his chest, Draco wrapped his slim arms around his shins, feeling a lump rise in his elegant throat as tears sprang to his pained eyes, sobs taking over his delicate frame.
After what seemed like mere minutes, but in reality was over an hour, Draco pulled himself to his feet and made his way to his dorm, trying to stifle the sniffs emitting from his body. He saw the dark shapes of his fellow Slytherin's in their beds; they were fast asleep. It wouldn't have troubled them anyway. Crabbe and Goyle knew Lucius was having one of his little 'talks' with Draco that night. It was nothing out of the ordinary. The only thing that was out of the ordinary was the strength in which Draco possessed. Getting into bed, Draco curled himself into a small ball, his right hand feeling its way along his stomach. A sudden pain made him bite down hard, the gash reopening in his lip as droplets of blood leaked onto his pillow. His eyes began to shut as visions began to form in his mind. Of his childhood, or lack of. Of what had happened merely an hour ago. Pushing his face into his pillow, he cried silently until sleep came over him, nightmares that stir beneath the surface coming alive.
************************************
"Harry! Harry wake up! We're late!"
The blurred figure of Ron Weasley bobbed energetically in front of Harry as his eyes opened, an immediate reaction taking control as he reached for his glasses and placed them on. He could see Ron perfectly now. Everything became sharper, more defined.
Suddenly what Ron was saying began to sink in. Harry groaned as he kicked off his sheets and ran to find his uniform, throwing on the wrinkly unwashed clothes quickly and running a hand through his messy, black hair. That was good enough. Looking around their dorm, Harry yelled in frustration, "Where's my bloody bag?" Ron jumped over Harry's bed, throwing his school bag back to its owner. "Hurry, we might be able to get a little bit of breakfast before Potions."
As they ran down the stone corridor, Harry wiped sleep from the corners of his eyes, "How could you let us sleep in again, Ron?"
Ron looked abashed, "Me?! I didn't see you try an' get us up last week when we were late! Remember ol' McGonegal's face when we walked in ten minutes late?" Harry shuddered.
The Great Hall was emptying by the time they got there. Quickly heading for the Gryffindor table, Ron proceeded to attempt to shove as many pieces of toast in his mouth as he could. Hermoine stood, shutting her Transfiguration book and glared at the two of them. "I thought you two wanted to get in some study this morning," She said in annoyance, walking past the two. "Thorry...shlept 'im." Ron said through a mouthful of toast, crumbs falling onto his collar. Hermione rolled her eyes and headed for the doors. "Well, I hope you two are ready for Potions, at least. Snape seems to be worse than ever, since Lucius Malfoy has been hanging around Hogwarts." At this, Harry turned to the Professor's table, his bright green eyes landing on the man sitting in the middle as his stomach dropped. He had temporarily forgotten Lucius Malfoy had been turning up at Hogwarts.
"Why is that wanker here anyway?" Harry turned at the sound of the voice, seeing Seamus Finnigan standing next to him. "Something about having a talk with Dumbledore." Harry said with a dark look. Ron joined him at his other side, pushing Harry towards the doors with Seamus following, "That can't mean anything good. He's probably demanding his dear son and the rest of the Slytherin Quidditch Team have better broomsticks...if that's possible."
************************************
As Harry, Ron and Hermione sat down at their seats in the Potions room, Snape immediately pulled out one of his large, ancient books, reading out the description of a particularly difficult sleeping potion. "Work in pairs, I expect a sample of your potion on my desk at the end of the class," Snape's dark eyes scanned the room, looking suspiciously at Harry and the rest of the Gryffindors. "The ingredients are on the board. Begin." The shuffle of students grabbing for ingredients and moving chairs filled the room as everyone began, no one wanting to make a mistake for fear of the consequences.
After an hour or so, Harry and Ron stood either side of their cauldron, looking down at it with satisfaction, Harry stirring the silver liquid within carefully. "Gimme a turn!" Ron said, taking the handle from Harry, who was more than happy to have a break. He bent over his book, his finger running down the paragraph that described what the potion was meant to look like. It sounds like we did it right. Harry thought happily. Now that his mind had slowed down and was not filled with the concern of their potion, Harry looked up, his green eyes settling on Draco Malfoy suspiciously. Why hasn't he given us any trouble? His eyebrows furrowed, Harry stared at the blonde's back, wondering if Draco was planning anything to catch them off guard. Eejit.
However, Draco didn't look like he was planning anything. In fact, Draco didn't look like anything he usually did. Usually standing with confidence, finding any opportunity to annoy Harry or Ron, or boasting to his fellow Slytherin's about anything and everything. Instead, as Harry stared at him, Draco stood against the side wall, stirring his cauldron slowly, his head looking down so his silvery hair cascaded over his eyes. For a moment, Harry wanted to go and see what was wrong...
"Harry!" Snapping his head up to Ron, Harry shook himself, trying to look normal. "W-what..." Ron looked puzzled as he stared at Harry, "Class is nearly finished. Lets give our sample to Snape so we can get out of here." Harry nodded in agreement, swallowing hard and forcing himself to keep his eyes away from the Slytherin side of the classroom.
Placing their full glass container onto Snape's table with everyone else, Harry smiled and turned around, drawing in a sharp breath as he faced a pair of grey eyes. Stepping back, Harry glared at Malfoy, waiting for the usual entourage of insults to come forth. However, Draco just looked at him, and Harry was actually shocked by what he saw. Draco's usually perfect face now had dark rings around his eyes...dead eyes. Harry had never realised it before. The eyes – two silver pools of surprising death. Harry had never seen such sadness.
Then, it all ended. Draco merely stared at Harry before turning away and placing his glass on Snape's table. Shaking himself, Harry returned to his table, collected his things and left with Ron and Hermione.
The rest of the day past slowly, Harry's thoughts always drifting back to the Potions room. Numerous times Harry would shake himself out of shameful thoughts.
It's just Malfoy! I don't care what is wrong with him...
Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me. They all belong to that wonderful author J.K. Rowling. I'm jealous.
Author's Note: This is my first fanfiction here, so please be gentle. *Smiles* And I would love if you could read and review. (
Enjoy...
~~~~
"F-Father...I..." A stuttering Draco Malfoy crouched helplessly in the corner of the Slytherin Common Room, his long, pale fingers clutching his wand tightly to stop the long piece of divine wood from slipping from his trembling grasp. A small drop of blood trickled down his chin from where he was biting down on his lip to stop from crying out in pain. A dark green aura was surrounding Draco's submitted position on his knees, radiating from a wand pointing in his direction. It slowly disappeared, leaving the sixteen year old Slytherin gasping for breath.
"Get to your feet, Draco." The harsh, whispered words escaped through barely-parting cold lips, veiling a certain malice that triggered something in Draco's subconscious that made him, out of reflex, obey. Slowly, the slim, silver haired boy rose, his legs threatening to give way at any given moment. As his face rose to meet Lucius Malfoy's metal eyes, mirroring his own. They were not unlike each other. The same silvery blond hair, the same eyes. However the younger Malfoy did not posses the same sharp, cruel features of his father. Instead, Draco had inherited the beautiful features of his Mother – a perfectly sculptured jaw line, soft, magnificent features rarely seen. However, that steely glare boring into him at that very moment...Draco looked away. His eyes which once had the potential to become just like those ones...now broken grey.
One pale hand reached up, coming to the side of Draco's perfect face, making him flinch. A cruel smile etched its way along Lucius' lips at the sight of his cowering son. His hand, still suspended in the air next to Draco's face, rose and swept away a few soft strands of light hair falling in front of his son's eyes before letting his hand linger at his forehead. Draco swallowed, feeling his aching body be overcome with a terrible chill that made his bones feel like ice. Fear was all he could feel now. His mind went blank. Numb. Everything was black, except for the potent man in front of him.
Staring at Draco, all emotion drained from his face. No amusement sparked his dangerous face. No love or compassion flicked in the swirls of thunderous grey. Nothing. In a barely audible whisper, Lucius' lips parted as he breathed, "The Dark Lord expects more than this. You know your place. And you will take that place. Mark my words, Draco." And with that, Draco felt Lucius' cold hand grab his neck throwing him back against the wall behind him with a thud. His lithe body slid down the dark green wall until he was on the floor, his head feeling like a lead weight had landed on it. Opening his eyes, he caught one last glimpse of his father exiting the Slytherin Common Room, leaving behind a cold wind that ruffled Draco's hair. Dragging his legs up until his knees were against his chest, Draco wrapped his slim arms around his shins, feeling a lump rise in his elegant throat as tears sprang to his pained eyes, sobs taking over his delicate frame.
After what seemed like mere minutes, but in reality was over an hour, Draco pulled himself to his feet and made his way to his dorm, trying to stifle the sniffs emitting from his body. He saw the dark shapes of his fellow Slytherin's in their beds; they were fast asleep. It wouldn't have troubled them anyway. Crabbe and Goyle knew Lucius was having one of his little 'talks' with Draco that night. It was nothing out of the ordinary. The only thing that was out of the ordinary was the strength in which Draco possessed. Getting into bed, Draco curled himself into a small ball, his right hand feeling its way along his stomach. A sudden pain made him bite down hard, the gash reopening in his lip as droplets of blood leaked onto his pillow. His eyes began to shut as visions began to form in his mind. Of his childhood, or lack of. Of what had happened merely an hour ago. Pushing his face into his pillow, he cried silently until sleep came over him, nightmares that stir beneath the surface coming alive.
************************************
"Harry! Harry wake up! We're late!"
The blurred figure of Ron Weasley bobbed energetically in front of Harry as his eyes opened, an immediate reaction taking control as he reached for his glasses and placed them on. He could see Ron perfectly now. Everything became sharper, more defined.
Suddenly what Ron was saying began to sink in. Harry groaned as he kicked off his sheets and ran to find his uniform, throwing on the wrinkly unwashed clothes quickly and running a hand through his messy, black hair. That was good enough. Looking around their dorm, Harry yelled in frustration, "Where's my bloody bag?" Ron jumped over Harry's bed, throwing his school bag back to its owner. "Hurry, we might be able to get a little bit of breakfast before Potions."
As they ran down the stone corridor, Harry wiped sleep from the corners of his eyes, "How could you let us sleep in again, Ron?"
Ron looked abashed, "Me?! I didn't see you try an' get us up last week when we were late! Remember ol' McGonegal's face when we walked in ten minutes late?" Harry shuddered.
The Great Hall was emptying by the time they got there. Quickly heading for the Gryffindor table, Ron proceeded to attempt to shove as many pieces of toast in his mouth as he could. Hermoine stood, shutting her Transfiguration book and glared at the two of them. "I thought you two wanted to get in some study this morning," She said in annoyance, walking past the two. "Thorry...shlept 'im." Ron said through a mouthful of toast, crumbs falling onto his collar. Hermione rolled her eyes and headed for the doors. "Well, I hope you two are ready for Potions, at least. Snape seems to be worse than ever, since Lucius Malfoy has been hanging around Hogwarts." At this, Harry turned to the Professor's table, his bright green eyes landing on the man sitting in the middle as his stomach dropped. He had temporarily forgotten Lucius Malfoy had been turning up at Hogwarts.
"Why is that wanker here anyway?" Harry turned at the sound of the voice, seeing Seamus Finnigan standing next to him. "Something about having a talk with Dumbledore." Harry said with a dark look. Ron joined him at his other side, pushing Harry towards the doors with Seamus following, "That can't mean anything good. He's probably demanding his dear son and the rest of the Slytherin Quidditch Team have better broomsticks...if that's possible."
************************************
As Harry, Ron and Hermione sat down at their seats in the Potions room, Snape immediately pulled out one of his large, ancient books, reading out the description of a particularly difficult sleeping potion. "Work in pairs, I expect a sample of your potion on my desk at the end of the class," Snape's dark eyes scanned the room, looking suspiciously at Harry and the rest of the Gryffindors. "The ingredients are on the board. Begin." The shuffle of students grabbing for ingredients and moving chairs filled the room as everyone began, no one wanting to make a mistake for fear of the consequences.
After an hour or so, Harry and Ron stood either side of their cauldron, looking down at it with satisfaction, Harry stirring the silver liquid within carefully. "Gimme a turn!" Ron said, taking the handle from Harry, who was more than happy to have a break. He bent over his book, his finger running down the paragraph that described what the potion was meant to look like. It sounds like we did it right. Harry thought happily. Now that his mind had slowed down and was not filled with the concern of their potion, Harry looked up, his green eyes settling on Draco Malfoy suspiciously. Why hasn't he given us any trouble? His eyebrows furrowed, Harry stared at the blonde's back, wondering if Draco was planning anything to catch them off guard. Eejit.
However, Draco didn't look like he was planning anything. In fact, Draco didn't look like anything he usually did. Usually standing with confidence, finding any opportunity to annoy Harry or Ron, or boasting to his fellow Slytherin's about anything and everything. Instead, as Harry stared at him, Draco stood against the side wall, stirring his cauldron slowly, his head looking down so his silvery hair cascaded over his eyes. For a moment, Harry wanted to go and see what was wrong...
"Harry!" Snapping his head up to Ron, Harry shook himself, trying to look normal. "W-what..." Ron looked puzzled as he stared at Harry, "Class is nearly finished. Lets give our sample to Snape so we can get out of here." Harry nodded in agreement, swallowing hard and forcing himself to keep his eyes away from the Slytherin side of the classroom.
Placing their full glass container onto Snape's table with everyone else, Harry smiled and turned around, drawing in a sharp breath as he faced a pair of grey eyes. Stepping back, Harry glared at Malfoy, waiting for the usual entourage of insults to come forth. However, Draco just looked at him, and Harry was actually shocked by what he saw. Draco's usually perfect face now had dark rings around his eyes...dead eyes. Harry had never realised it before. The eyes – two silver pools of surprising death. Harry had never seen such sadness.
Then, it all ended. Draco merely stared at Harry before turning away and placing his glass on Snape's table. Shaking himself, Harry returned to his table, collected his things and left with Ron and Hermione.
The rest of the day past slowly, Harry's thoughts always drifting back to the Potions room. Numerous times Harry would shake himself out of shameful thoughts.
It's just Malfoy! I don't care what is wrong with him...