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Chapter Two: The Prey
Dawn came rosy-cheeked to the citadel, high upon its mountain peak that overlooked a sleepy valley village as it had for centuries. The two spires jutted up to stab the steadily lightening sky, imposing in their black-stone grandeur. It wasn't large, as castles go, but it was big enough for there to be corridors and rooms unused since the time of their construction. Most of the rooms were empty now, filthy with years of neglect. Once, it had been a lively, bustling place, full of courtiers from all around; lavish parties had been hosted in its ballroom; once, it had been alive. Now the castle was uninhabited.
Except... Except for one lone figure, always wrapped in cloth as dark and forbidding as the surrounding fortress. He was the last lord the manor had, and ever would.
His name was Draco, of the proud line of the Malfoy family, and he was the last. His mother and father had finally died. The few servants that remained at that point in time told Draco of accident, yet whispered "suicide". The new young lord had not been surprised. He knew that an ending of the mundane sort was simply not possible for his parents, what with their Malfoy flair for drama. That incident had been two years ago; Draco had long since sent away all his servants and staff. They were not sorry to leave. While they had loved the old Lord and Lady as much as anyone could love people so prone to fits of violent rage and cold remarks, this new Lord was far too odd for them. Holed away in that enormous library all day and night, and if you so much as looked at him funny, he'd bite your head off. No, they were not sorry at all. The only one who stayed by Draco's side had been his tutor, Severus, but he had died the winter after Draco's parents.
And so it was that Draco was very much alone.
That morning found Draco still in bed, though he no longer slept. Fair hair lay tangled on the silken pillows, long-fingered hands on his bare chest. The lord of the manor let his plae eyes wander from the black brocade canopy, to the thick down comfortors he had piled upon him, to the ebony windowpane and the deep forest beyond.
Slowly he rose, first sitting up and then taking the stairs down to a chilly marble floor. Draco shivered when his feet made contact, and continued to do so when his body left the warmth the comfortors provided. A mirror stood opposite the bes, cool glass gilt-edged in silver filligree. Draco took one long look at this spare frame and turned away, disgusted. Three long strides took him to his wardrobe, from which he removed a pair of black leather pants and an oversized white tunic. Before stepping outside to the balcony, he slipped on a cloack that hung on his shoulders like broken wings; another guard against the chill. No matter how many layers he wore, Draco felt as if he could never be warm.
A hand came to rest on the citadel's dark stone. It numbed his fingers, chilled him to the core of his being. The blonde quickly took his hand away. The stone sucked the warmth from things, turned them to ice as black as it was. Just barely, on the edge of conciousness, Draco knew that was happening to his own self, as it had to his mother and father so long ago.
Shivering, the boy drew his cloak in tighter about himself. Blue eyes, thickly rimmed in black, swept over the treetops to the valley below.
"He's coming."
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A/N: Ta-da! Chapter two! How was it? I know, I know, still no plot! But I set up the first two chapters to introduce my special, AU versions of Draco and Harry. Forgive meeee! .; Anyway, I'll post the third, plot-licious chapter as soon as I'm finished writing it. (It's very long... ugh.) To those of you that reveiwed, thank you! . I appreciate it alot. More substance is coming!
Chapter Two: The Prey
Dawn came rosy-cheeked to the citadel, high upon its mountain peak that overlooked a sleepy valley village as it had for centuries. The two spires jutted up to stab the steadily lightening sky, imposing in their black-stone grandeur. It wasn't large, as castles go, but it was big enough for there to be corridors and rooms unused since the time of their construction. Most of the rooms were empty now, filthy with years of neglect. Once, it had been a lively, bustling place, full of courtiers from all around; lavish parties had been hosted in its ballroom; once, it had been alive. Now the castle was uninhabited.
Except... Except for one lone figure, always wrapped in cloth as dark and forbidding as the surrounding fortress. He was the last lord the manor had, and ever would.
His name was Draco, of the proud line of the Malfoy family, and he was the last. His mother and father had finally died. The few servants that remained at that point in time told Draco of accident, yet whispered "suicide". The new young lord had not been surprised. He knew that an ending of the mundane sort was simply not possible for his parents, what with their Malfoy flair for drama. That incident had been two years ago; Draco had long since sent away all his servants and staff. They were not sorry to leave. While they had loved the old Lord and Lady as much as anyone could love people so prone to fits of violent rage and cold remarks, this new Lord was far too odd for them. Holed away in that enormous library all day and night, and if you so much as looked at him funny, he'd bite your head off. No, they were not sorry at all. The only one who stayed by Draco's side had been his tutor, Severus, but he had died the winter after Draco's parents.
And so it was that Draco was very much alone.
That morning found Draco still in bed, though he no longer slept. Fair hair lay tangled on the silken pillows, long-fingered hands on his bare chest. The lord of the manor let his plae eyes wander from the black brocade canopy, to the thick down comfortors he had piled upon him, to the ebony windowpane and the deep forest beyond.
Slowly he rose, first sitting up and then taking the stairs down to a chilly marble floor. Draco shivered when his feet made contact, and continued to do so when his body left the warmth the comfortors provided. A mirror stood opposite the bes, cool glass gilt-edged in silver filligree. Draco took one long look at this spare frame and turned away, disgusted. Three long strides took him to his wardrobe, from which he removed a pair of black leather pants and an oversized white tunic. Before stepping outside to the balcony, he slipped on a cloack that hung on his shoulders like broken wings; another guard against the chill. No matter how many layers he wore, Draco felt as if he could never be warm.
A hand came to rest on the citadel's dark stone. It numbed his fingers, chilled him to the core of his being. The blonde quickly took his hand away. The stone sucked the warmth from things, turned them to ice as black as it was. Just barely, on the edge of conciousness, Draco knew that was happening to his own self, as it had to his mother and father so long ago.
Shivering, the boy drew his cloak in tighter about himself. Blue eyes, thickly rimmed in black, swept over the treetops to the valley below.
"He's coming."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: Ta-da! Chapter two! How was it? I know, I know, still no plot! But I set up the first two chapters to introduce my special, AU versions of Draco and Harry. Forgive meeee! .; Anyway, I'll post the third, plot-licious chapter as soon as I'm finished writing it. (It's very long... ugh.) To those of you that reveiwed, thank you! . I appreciate it alot. More substance is coming!