Thanks for all of the reviews :) I'll reply to all of them properlly at the bottom of the page. Hope you are still reading this :)
A/N: The lyrics are from Silverchair's "Learn to Hate", great band, great lyrics.
Chapter One: Learn to Hate
Take the time to learn to hate
Come and join the mass debate
Take the time, take the time
It's all uphill you've gotta climb.
It was midnight. Vague images. He was in his father's arms. His body shivered, rocked and clenched. He didn't know why. His face was wet. His hair was dry and it brushed his cheek – tap, tap, tap – with the rhythm of his father's long strides. There was a weight on his chest. He could hear a noise – tap, tap, tap – his eyes cracked open to watch a petal fall to the ground. He winced at the surprisingly sharp noise it made when it landed. The world swayed. His nose scrunched up in distaste, eyes screwing shut against putrid light. The petals continued to fall. A father's arm crushing a dead rose against his son's chest with those strong unflinching arms...that noise. What was that noise? Tap, tap, tap.
"Draco!"
Heels?
"What have you done?!" He heard the high pitched shriek but it sounded strangely muffled and the world was turning grey and his eyes had never really been open, had they? The world was a shuddering dream. In and out of focus. Nothing to hold, only the shivering, the shaking—
"Draco!" Someone whispered. His arm was shaking...or rather being shaken. He was facing the opposite direction, the direction of his clock. Those pale blue eyes opened to slits and glared at the clock which read "Go back to sleep you crazy prat!" He could hear the soft tick-like snores emanating from the device. That's it, if he's clock was bloody sleeping there was no way in hell he was getting up at this ungodly hour.
The shaking continued, he groaned. "G'way..." Still, with the shaking and the hissing words that were way too loud to be whispers.
Persistent bugger.
Draco's cheek distorted into a sneer and he crept his hand beneath his pillow where he always kept his wand. You could never be too sure in the Slytherin dorimitory. As soon as his fingers had clenched around the cool wood, he was upright and turned around and his wand, his beautiful loyal wand was underneath the chin of a very shocked Vincent Crabbe.
"Uh...." Crabbe was trying to see the wand for some indication of how exactly Draco was going to hex off his balls. Draco pressed the wand closer, twisting it between the folds of a convenient double chin.
"I hope you don't have any appendages you'll miss, Crabbe, because I plan to remove every single one of them...slowly." A strange deep throated 'meep' escaped Crabbe. Very odd, he sounded like a strangled duck. Draco rolled his eyes, perhaps he should make it clearer that he wanted Crabbe to speak so he could continue to sleep. "You have five seconds before I turn your face inside out. I'd hate to miss out on whatever it is you are simply dying to tell me. If your news does fail to impress me, you're going to wish you were dying by the time I'm through with you."
Crabbe opened his mouth and then seemed to hesitate as he looked over his shoulder toward his bed. One silver, arrow-like eyebrow lifted in response, glinting in the faint light emanating from Crabbe's bedside table. There, perched on the wooden top, was a very familiar eagle owl. Draco's forehead furrowed, the bird was cleaning its red beak with the feathers of its wing. Red? His beak's not usually...Draco's eyes fell on the hand that Crabbe was extending toward him. A piece of parchment and one severely pecked chubby finger.
"You didn't bloody up my mail did you?" Draco groaned and snatched the Owl away from his friend. Draco would remember to congratulate himself later for telling his very violent owl to peck Crabbe instead if Draco happened to be asleep when an urgent message came. He watched Crabbe trot back to his bed, edging as far away from his bedside table as he could. The majestic owl stood taller as he watched Crabbe approach, following the cautious boy with his intense yellow eyes. Draco could have sworn the beast was smirking.
"Come, Horatio." Draco drawled.
The eagle owl looked toward him and flew the short distance between their beds to perch on one of the wooden posts. Draco placed the message down for a moment, rubbing the sleep from his pained eyes. They always stung in the morning. He looked around the emerald curtain of his bed to see that Crabbe had indeed gone back to sleep, before he reached into the satchel hanging on the side of his bed and took out a small vial of transparent liquid. Quickly and discretely he placed two drops in each eye, blinking rapidly until the liquid was spread evenly over his cornea.
"As much as I respect you for trying to chew off his fingers," he continued, "you don't get a reward unless you have something else for me..." Draco looked at Horatio meaningfully, running one finger under his eyes to smooth away the excess liquid leaking down his cheeks. Horatio inclined his majestic head before swooping very low over Draco's bed, so low his master had to duck to avoid being clipped. Arrogant prat of a pigeon. Draco followed Horatio's flight to where he landed high on the wall, where the windows let in the barest hint of natural light. From there, the bird picked up a small package in his sharp beak and swooped back down. Draco was already smirking, already reaching out to open the drawer beneath his bedside table to remove something. Horatio dumped the package on his bed and squawked very obnoxiously in Draco's ear.
"Shut up." Draco hissed back as he unwrapped the soggy material in his hand. Inside was a small mouse, freshly killed from one of the more gruesome charms Draco had been practicing. Horatio didn't seem to care that half of the mouse's skull was visible through its bloodied fur, he quickly moved forward and snatched the mouse from Draco's hand before flying up and out the window. "I'll glue that bird to his perch one day..." Draco muttered as he picked up the package Horatio had collected for him. A genuinely relieved sigh escape Draco's lips. Vanilla Frost cigarettes. Very expensive, very chic, very important to someone like Draco. Finally, he moved back to his Owl and ripped open the green wax seal.
Dearest Draco,
I made certain that Horatio would bring this message to you prior to breakfast. I feared that others would learn of these events before you and cause you great distress. Your father will be free from Azkaban as of nine am this morning. I trust this news will be of no great shock to you. It is unclear to me when he will return to the manor, as he is going to tend to business affairs with your Aunt first. I will send you word express when he arrives.
Be aware that some of your peers will not take kindly to this news, they will be blind to the relief of his loved ones or that their own Wizengamot found him innocent. Those fools listen to nothing above the word of Harry Potter despite all the evidence at hand to the contrary. Do not let this distress you. You know what I must ask of you, your father has been explicit in his instructions up until this point and there has been no change. It is very important, Draco, no matter how tedious you find it. For now, go to the Great Hall, enjoy your feast and our victory. Ignore everything, you are better than their snivelling whispers.
Love N. Malfoy
PS. I trust that Miss Parkinson will help you preserve your position in Slytherin House, correct?
He was very still, his hand automatically reaching for his cigarettes as his heart began to pound. Unconsciously, his eyes sort out the one person who would find this news very interesting indeed. The bed was empty...where...? Draco looked about the dorm room but could see no sign of Theodore Nott. That was hardly reassuring.
His hands didn't shake as he proceeded to tear up the message and slide off his bed. His feet hit the floor lightly and then he was striding across the room, pulling on the clothes he'd had set out on a stool the night before, grabbing his cloak and climbing the claustrophic stair well to the Slytherin common room. He walked straight for the fire and muttered a quick 'incendio' under his breath. The fireplace sparked to life, burning steadily as Draco fed it with a little more kindling, dropping his mother's owl into the flames piece by torn up piece.
His father was free and Draco was elated. He also knew that the backlash from the student body would be horrific to his campaign to get control of the younger Slytherin students. Though they might be as glad as he, the prejudice of the rest of the students was bound to get worse in the current atmosphere. The younger students would be harassed and ridiculed for the Death Eater spawn that they were. They would start to resent Draco for exposing creatures, who so adored the stealth and shadow, to the garish light. All a slytherin wanted was to be assured of their own safety, their own place – they cared little for the trials of others. They would turn on him, hissing and spitting if they were threatened and he knew exactly who they would turn to. His eyes narrowed with distaste. Theodore Nott. He hated that boy: always plotting, creeping up behind him, the silent achiever...it was proving deadly to Draco's cause and now Nott had the perfect chance to seize complete control. This ruined everything.
Draco tore open the small white package in his hands, muttered a quick charm and then there, finally, right there against his lips...ecstasy. Draco breathed through his mouth, virtually sucking the very sap from the cigarette between his fingers. He felt the cool shiver trickle down his chest into his lungs and his spine almost arched with exhilaration. He hadn't had a smoke for three days. Never a good idea to run out when he needed them. He usually kept a rather large stronghold, but the junior slytherins had been pissing him off so much lately that he was very rarely seen without a cigarette stuck to his lower lip. It was hardly his fault that they were so damn annoying. He inhaled again, shaking a lock of white blonde hair from his eyes. As he exhaled a cloud of chilled white air, he chuckled. No matter how many times he smoked vanilla frosts, he always found it amusing that you needed to burn the cigarette to smoke it, yet inside his body the smoke froze and was exhaled like a particularly cool winter wind. Like...magic.
"Draco!" He heard the high pitched call behind him, heard her footsteps padding up the last few steps, treading softly across the cool ground. He didn't turn his head, he continued exhaling those gentle puffs of winter, watching his mother's letter burn through a cloud of ice. "Draco...?"
"Draco! Draco! Lucius, what you have done?! He's bleeding!" A struggle. The scraping of heels against the floor. A slap of flesh and then the creak of doors sliding closed steadily.
"Never raise your hand to me again." The measured ice of his father's tone, the power of it – they called to Draco like nothing else could. The prickle of awareness rushed through Draco, awareness of true power, of true force. Draco craved to be like that man, he'd spent his whole life strutting around in the shadow of a Wizard he could never hope to be. Or maybe, he simply had to learn...
Draco opened his eyes groggily and looked across at the doors to his quarters. They weren't closed completely and he could barely make out his mothers pale face looking lividly up at a figure he couldn't discern.
"You told me he wouldn't suffer."
"And so he hasn't." The warning was still there in his father's voice. Narcissa hesitated; she shifted on her feet before raising her chin and refusing to back down. Lucius chuckled mirthlessly and gripped the side of Narcissa's face. Draco didn't flinch. He didn't realise he was sliding from his bed, creeping forward, softly across the carpet toward the slight crack between the double doors. He was breathing deeply mesmerised by his father's control.
"I never thought you'd stoop to this! He already adored you!" She hissed trying to pull away, Lucius merely raised his other hand softly so her face was uncompromisingly trapped in his hands. She flinched and closed her eyes tight. Lucius must have applied a faint pressure because in the next moment Narcissa bit her lip and opened her eyes wide to stare up at him.
"Hold. Your. Tongue. Before you make me angry. I so detest being angry with you, my beautifully cold, Narcissa." His drawl was biting and Draco flinched from the anger just beneath the surface. Narcissa didn't bat an eyelash, but Draco was close enough to hear the unevenness in her breath now.
"Did he...was he...in obvious pain?" Narcissa asked. Lucius shook his head, a decidedly smug grin spreading across his face. Pride. Something inside Draco prickled with excitement, his father was proud of him.
"No pain." Lucius whispered to her.
"You should have just said so. How did you expect me to react when I saw him?"
"I expected a little dignity, a little respect, a little common sense. Those traits which you have exhibited every moment of your life until now." Narcissa looked down in shame but Lucius quickly pulled her chin back up, steadily meeting her embarrassed gaze. "He is prepared now. Nothing Dumbledore will say can turn him, he is protected from that muggle-loving fool's propaganda. Does that give you comfort?" Narcissa nodded very slowly. "I will not let my son slip through my fingers and be taught to dismiss our culture as nothing important enough to preserve. I will not let him be infected by—"
"He's too intelligent to be manipulated in such a way." Narcissa contradicted. Lucius's face contorted, his mouth curled into a snarl.
"He was a child; a mother is always blind to the faults of her own child."
"He is still a child! I don't happen to see that as such a horrible thing. He is our child, or did you steal that from him too?"
"Everything I have done, I have done for you and our son. Everything! Why else do you think I have risked my life?" Lucius actually growled at her but the sound was cut off be her angry reply.
"You do it for yourself! It's always been for you, I'm here for you, your trophy, like all your other collectables and Draco's nothing more than—" Her mothers protests were cut off when Lucius pulled her violently forward and kissed her. Draco stepped backwards with a scowl. Lucius was kissing her so deeply and with such force that his son was extremely embarrassed. No child wants to see that. He was not used to seeing his parents being so emotional. The fact that those emotions came out because of him was something Draco didn't completely understand, but the small intuitive part of his mind was constantly whispering that this was a good thing. It could be manipulated and controlled.
Narcissa's struggles quickly ceased and then she collapsed against her husband's chest with an audible sigh, her body melted into him, holding his forearms as he cupped her face. When he finally removed his face from contact with hers, her lips were strangely blue and her eyes dark and intensely staring at him.
"Everything I do is for you." He whispered intensely. She nodded, understandingly, winding her arms around him to hold him in a close embrace. "Let our son rest, he has done well today."
Lucius moved slightly so Narcissa's back was facing Draco. Draco's eyes slowly rose, up the curve of her spine, to her shoulder where Lucius was resting his head. Blue eyes pierced Draco knowingly, their clarity and force made Draco blush in embarrassment. Lucius was completely aware that Draco had been watching them the entire time. He smirked at his son indulgently, playing with his wife's hair. Narcissa sighed contently and nestled closer to her husband's body. Lucius smirked again and then turned to escort his wife away. She made no protest.
It was only as Draco closed the door that he realised what those secretive smiles he exchanged with his father really meant.
His mother was the weak one. His mother was the one who had lost control and let those horrible emotions consume her. His father....his father had simply been controlling her. Steadying her, bringing her back to what a proper Malfoy woman should be. Draco grinned as he walked toward his mirror. It all came so easy to him, all these people would crawl for Lucius Malfoy, crawl and lick and simper like dogs. His father amazed him, how he talked and moved and held himself, how everyone believed him because his words were full of such sincerity, his face so steady. Draco was told he looked just like his father, his mother whispered into his hair that one day he would be as great. One day. Today he'd taken a great step in that direction.
Draco stepped in front of his mirror and smiled before he even locked eyes on the reflection. The smile quickly fell away as if it had been chipped from his features with the sudden crunch of an ice pick. He paused for a moment and started to shake, he heard a shocked gasp and knew it had come from the panels of glass in front of him rather than his own lips. It couldn't be real; the mirror was playing a trick. This could not be his reflection, it could not. Draco backed away and touched his face feeling the damp liquid that stained his cheeks, feeling the horrid ugliness that had taken over his skin. He looked down at his shaking hands, looked down once he'd felt the liquid moving between his fingers, looked down to see it with his own eyes. Red and thick and covering his alabaster skin with a horrible sticky warmth. 'he's bleeding' his mother had hissed. Bleeding. He placed his hands back on to his face, to ground himself, to understand that blood really was all over his cheeks. He stumbled backwards and screamed. Screamed and screamed with no intention of stopping.
Warmth on his cheek. Her hand. Draco turned his cheek slightly to acknowledge her, exhaled a white cloud of chilled air at her. Pansy smiled and shivered in the sudden chill. Her body drew closer to him, which probably wasn't a good idea considering the source of that chill.
"Are you ok, Drake?" Pansy whispered simperingly into his shoulder blade. Draco sighed and ran the cool fingertips of his hand across the skin of her forearm. "Your mother owled me. She sounded concerned."
"I feel like I've fallen for a wronski feint, but aside from the cracked ribs and internal bleeding I'm just dandy."
"Don't say dandy, you don't pull it off." She whispered seriously. Draco looked over his shoulder at her incredulously and she laughed, wrapping her arms around his body. "He's free. You've been saying for months you wanted him back, you should be happy. Your happiness is all that matters."
Draco scoffed and pulled her arms away, whirling around in his long black cloak to glower over her in a fierce temper.
"All that matters? Everything we've worked for is ruined! Everyone in the school will know that my Father's eloquence and his expensive litigation team is all that saved his wonderfully slippery hide again. Don't get me wrong, I'm exceedingly happy for the old bastard, but I bet he is just smirking smugly because his freedom has come at the optimum time to completely destroy all of our progress. He raves on and on about my success, but it only matters when it comes on his terms and he has had no hand in this...of course he would want to take it from me." Draco whined, kicking the nearest piece of furniture which just happened to be a coffee table. It flipped over and went soaring four metres away.
Pansy bit her lip and watched as the table flipped itself up the right way again and proceeded to rattle away on its four legs indignantly.
"It is selfish of him, but Draco don't get all stroppy. This is nothing, you'll see. What has it to do with us?"
"Absolutely nothing, which of course means that to everyone in this wretched school it will somehow be our fault that he's free. Lower your I.Q and think like a Gryffindor. Dumbledore will be watching me closely for correspondence with my family, as if Father would actually be fool enough to contact me himself. The Dark Lord will know about the increased security, who do you think he'll choose as recruitment officer? Slytherin's don't take foolish chances. I bet Nott's going to hardly be able to contain his need to wet himself at breakfast."
"It will pass." Pansy whispered, slipping her hands beneath the edges of his cloak so she could stroke the smooth cashmere sweater underneath. Draco's forehead was still furrowed in deep thought. He either ignored or didn't notice her sudden affectionate caressing.
"If it doesn't stop, we'll have to...shift the attention." Draco smirked as a million equally malicious ideas flitted through his mind. Pansy frowned and sighed impatiently, withdrawing her hands from his cloak with unnecessary violence. Her nails scratched along his skin and Draco scowled at her.
"It's for us." He said. "Our future starts now." He whispered to her, his voice intent, reassuring. He reached out and cupped her face, kissing her imploringly as he softly twirled one lock of dark hair around his finger. His mouth was so cool but he tasted wonderful, like rain and vanilla. His mouth was quickly warming up through the caress of hers. Too soon he pulled away.
"Mmmm. You taste nice." She whispered against his lips. He grinned rakishly, moving the cigarette still clutched between his hands back to his lips. She smiled as he dramatically inhaled just to please her.
"Yet another reason not to kick my bad habit."
"Could I try one of those?" She asked tentatively. Draco chuckled, exhaling in short puffs of ice against her cheek.
"You don't want to try one of these, they're dangerous." He flicked it away toward the fire. When it made contact with the flames a loud crack was heard and the cigarette exploded in a quick burst of blue fire. Pansy jumped and Draco chuckled mirthlessly against her ear.
"I put up with you and you're dangerous." She said, pouting childishly. Sensing another outburst Draco leant forward and brushed his lips against hers teasingly.
"Trust me. You are a vanilla frost, you don't need to smoke them." He grinned and Pansy rolled her eyes to cover the sudden blush invading her cheeks.
"You want to smoke me?" She asked with a provocative raise of her eyebrow. Draco tilted his head in consideration.
"Haven't I already done that?" Pansy's face went so red he could have mistaken her for a Weasley. "Just trust me. I'd never want you hurt." The sincerity of his voice made her need to look away, so intense were her feelings for him. "Now go get dressed, we have to make an appearance at breakfast."
She looked shocked. "But—"
"Go. Get. Dressed."
TBC
A/N: Sorry about the Pansy/Draco stuff. It's necessary. I didn't want her to be two dimensional, that's all. I promise that Hermione will be the main focus of the next part. Hope you're still read then!
One: Thanks for the ego stroking, I was smug for about ten minutes - a new record. I don't have that many HP ideas, but when I do think of them I shudder at the thought of writing them. J.K is one giant monkey on the back, there's no competing with her. lol Funny that you should mention Jane Austen because she's actually where I got the idea from. I put that section in italics because I really just used it as a transitional device - it will only be at the beginning and the end, after all this IS based on a fairy tale, why note use a fairy tale style? Draco was a complete suck in the first chapter, it was painful to write, but he is in awe of his father...thankyou so much for taking the time to read this btw. Hope you keep doing so.
Snow-Queen1: What an appropriate name!! Haha. Thankyou for adding me to your favourites, I hope you liked this chapter.
IHeartDrakieRonnie: Thanks so much, I wanted to do something different with the Malfoy's. I do think that if Lucius was in any way abusive to his family it would be mental, so I didn't want to write him as a violent person...although I'm sure he would be capable of that given the necessity for it.
Kyra4: Thanks for adding me to your favourites. That's lovely. I hope you're still enjoying the story. Sorry there hasn't been any Draco/Hermione interaction, but there will be. Hermione will be the focus of the next chapter. Hope you like how Draco turned out and don't hold his smoking habits against me, hehe.
halo-effect: Cool name. Thanks so much, I usually don't get called an intelligent writer so I was really flattered by your review. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, feel free to offer any criticisms you have whatsoever.
Love B xxx
