DISCLAIMER ~ Try as I might none of these characters belong to me. Except
the ones that I invent.
THANKS TO ~ Lux-soap who gives me the will to carry on writing, Pyrope who has written the longest review that I have ever received (what's your e- mail address?), Draco is the man who is sometimes FredandGeorge4Eva, Bulma Greenleaf who makes me laugh and alyshia who might die if I don't upload anymore chapters.
NOTE ~ This is not a detention day, it takes place during the night before the next detention day. This is when the story starts getting really dark and meaningful again. I hope. (How Draco and Hermione got out of the lake will be explained in later chapters).
EXTRA NOTE ~ The way many of the sentences and paragraphs have been shaped throughout this fanfic are from my other story at home. Some are even identical in their wording. I have known some fanfic writers to use certain sentences and quotes from other fanfic writer's works. Since I am working very hard on my proper story, and through good connections that I have I am someday hoping to be published, if not renowned, I would like it very much if you did not use exact phrases etc. from this particular fanfic. Thank you!
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Chapter Nine ~ The Fissures of Madness
The sharp moonlight cleaved the darkness, stabbing all manner of things with her silver blades. She slashed the face of a sleeping boy, who lay upon a bed in a ward. He looked none but a wraith with his features blurred by the hoary light, his usually distinguished features blending, giving him a kind of beauty that surpassed mortals. He rolled over and embraced his soft pillow, dreaming dreams that would be forever locked within the enigmatic lattice of his mind.
That day had been good, wonderful in fact. He had expressed and received a kind of desire that he never thought could be possible of him. Though his mother was still cold and his sister too young to understand naught but the need for food and attention. Draco rubbed his face into the velvety folds of his pillow as his dreams reminisced his earlier activities. Things were really beginning to look up after the recent tragedy.
Outside the ornately carved door of the Hospital Wing there swirled a being full of wrath and hatred. It's smoky curls ebbed in the faint light provided by the bright moonlight that crept beneath the large door. With a growl it passed into the room by the skill and silence of an assassin.
As it swept into the room the shards of light sliced across it's body, and where those shards sliced it appeared invisible, and where it was in darkness it was visible to all who may look upon it. The ward was empty, save a woman and her two children, one was a baby, held in her arms as she slept, the other was an adolescent boy, sleeping no more than five beds away from her. The chill in the relationship between the boy and woman radiated potently, like the chill of winter outside as one stood in the doorway of their warm home. It grinned evilly and as slow as a lazy breeze it slithered towards the boy.
As it approached it paused as the young blonde rolled over onto his back, murmuring something about waterweed. Of course the thing knew what the boy meant; ever since Christmas Eve it had been closely monitoring his actions. At last the misty person reached the side of the bed and looked down upon the sleeping lad. If it was alive it's heart would burst from confusion, not being able to decide whether it should fill with the hate of the betrayed or the love of one who could never receive love again. Shining brightly in all it's mixed emotions, the haze of it's form churning madly, it reached out to caress the face of Draco Malfoy. Alas, he was but a spectre, a cloudy projection of his former living self, and his hand passed right through the cheek of his son.
Draco woke with a jolt and Lucius rendered himself invisible. The other sat up shakily, his forehead shining with the sweat of a nightmare, and he lifted his fingers to his cheek, which was numb with cold. His dreams had been pleasant all night, he had dreamt of Hermione and mermaids, Granians and clouds, kisses and orange waterweed, but his sleepy visions had been paid a visit by the mares of night. All that had been in his dreams merged into a chaotic mess before disintegrating into a vacant blackness. And then Lucius was there. He drifted out of the dark, menacing yet sad.
'Father,' Draco had whispered, as he had stretched out his hand.
Lucius had not replied, but glared frostily at his son. He wanted to hold Draco, however his disappointment and rage held him back, and had drifted away as Draco had stepped forward. Lucius felt miserable as he saw the pained look upon his son's face when he had realised he could never be close to his father again. He hated yet loved the boy, and he soared over and stood before him. Draco lunged and wrapped his arms around his father, who exploded into myriad tiny flecks of mist before reappearing outside of Draco's embrace. He lifted his hand and struck his son across the face as hard as he could.
That was when he woke up.
Draco felt distraught and disorientated. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, staggering slightly. He had requested permission to sleep in the Hospital Wing with his mother and that permission had been granted. His mother, on the other hand, was still angry with Draco, and refused to speak to him and did not let him hold or see Rosace. He shuddered. It was freezing inside the ward, and his breath was to be seen in great foggy gusts. He looked over at his mother and sister, and their breath was visible too.
He walked to their bed and looked upon his sleeping sister, so small and delicate, so vulnerable and naïve in her raw youth. He smiled faintly and softly stroked her smooth cheek. She yawned in her sleep, displaying two rows of toothless gums. Again Draco smiled and left at the call of nature.
As he left Lucius became visible again at the side of his wife's bed. He checked with his silver eyes to see if Draco was completely gone, and then leant over to see his new daughter. She was exceptional, as far as babies went. Extra cute and very quiet, two magnificent qualities that everyone wants their baby to have. She would grow up to become a fine Malfoy; providing that Narcissa would raise her properly, and that she did not come into much contact with her brother. He longed to embrace the child, if not just to touch her, but after his recent attempt on Draco he decided that might not be a very good idea.
Lucius then gazed at his wife. She was perfect in everyway; she was loyal, loving and flawlessly buxom. An especially important value that proper pureblood women should have. Lucius Malfoy was *not* raised to breed with stick insects, therefore Narcissa Black was the ideal match in his eyes. (AN: She's supposed to be skinny in the books but what the heck). Lucius smiled, or smirked. He had never quite got the hang of smiling. He was stuck on smirking. Even after his death she was still faithful to him and the Death Eater beliefs. He silently praised the woman for her verbal attack on Draco when she had found out about the incident in the Owlry.
Hermione Granger.
A whore if ever he knew one. Mud ran through her veins, and a dirty film of grime layered her body. A mudblood whore. The worst kind of whore. She prayed upon the woeful, luring them during their vulnerable state of grief. He had seen them in the lake, and had been furious about it all day afterwards. As soon as he saw that first kiss he roared in rage and returned to his grave to rest in his body, the only comfortable place a ghost could ever be, and he fumed. The night was fully mature before he left to examine his son's activities some more.
At the sound of a flushing toilet Lucius became invisible once again. Draco entered the main area of the ward, rubbing his eyes and yawning. The ghost went to his son's bed, and tensed as Draco stopped right beside him to scratch a place on his back that he could not quite reach. He bent his head back and there it was on the smooth flesh of his neck, a great purple love- bite. Knowing that gills would prevent hickeys Lucius stared at his boy with pure loathing painted thickly over his face. It had happened after the lake incident, when he thought that it was over. His son *meant* to share passion with this grimy mudblood. Lucius snarled. Perhaps his son wanted to do this!
'YOU REVOLTING DISGRACE!' he bellowed, becoming visible again, soaring into the dark above so that he could be clearly seen. Draco stared in shock and horror at the sight of the silvery phantom among the rafters overhead. The dead Malfoy emitted a great dazzling light, his cloak fluttering wildly in his terrible wrath. His eyes became black like coals within the white glow.
'A MUDBLOOD IS NOT WORTHY OF YOUR PURITY! YET YOU CARESS HER LIKE THE QUEEN OF PUREBLOODS!'
Draco stumbled backwards in fright and landed upon the cold floor.
'YOU SHOULD BE DISPOSED OF LIKE THE DIRT THAT YOU HAVE BECOME! I WILL DELIVER YOU INTO THE FISSURES OF MADDNESS AND YOU WILL DESPAIR AND DIE!'
With a terrible screech akin to the cry of an eagle that rose steadily to its finishing note, Lucius Malfoy disappeared into the darkness among an explosion of luminosity. Draco was left quaking for all he was worth, goose pimples rising all over his skin. He sat up slowly and peered over at Narcissa and Rosace. They were both fast asleep. He returned to his bed with much difficulty, exceedingly traumatised by the confrontation. He wondered how long his father had been watching him after he had died, and he wondered how on earth a ghost could deliver him into the Fissures of Madness. He clambered into the bed and slivered deep into the covers, drawing them tightly around his pale body. Perhaps, after all, things weren't beginning to look up after the recent tragedy.
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AN ~ YAY! Chapter nine! I hope you like it. It's a little shorter than the rest. I roughly know how the story is going to end, but that is still quite a while off yet. Reviews are very tasty and low in fat and I am VERY hungry. *hint hint*. Chapter ten up ASAP.
THANKS TO ~ Lux-soap who gives me the will to carry on writing, Pyrope who has written the longest review that I have ever received (what's your e- mail address?), Draco is the man who is sometimes FredandGeorge4Eva, Bulma Greenleaf who makes me laugh and alyshia who might die if I don't upload anymore chapters.
NOTE ~ This is not a detention day, it takes place during the night before the next detention day. This is when the story starts getting really dark and meaningful again. I hope. (How Draco and Hermione got out of the lake will be explained in later chapters).
EXTRA NOTE ~ The way many of the sentences and paragraphs have been shaped throughout this fanfic are from my other story at home. Some are even identical in their wording. I have known some fanfic writers to use certain sentences and quotes from other fanfic writer's works. Since I am working very hard on my proper story, and through good connections that I have I am someday hoping to be published, if not renowned, I would like it very much if you did not use exact phrases etc. from this particular fanfic. Thank you!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Chapter Nine ~ The Fissures of Madness
The sharp moonlight cleaved the darkness, stabbing all manner of things with her silver blades. She slashed the face of a sleeping boy, who lay upon a bed in a ward. He looked none but a wraith with his features blurred by the hoary light, his usually distinguished features blending, giving him a kind of beauty that surpassed mortals. He rolled over and embraced his soft pillow, dreaming dreams that would be forever locked within the enigmatic lattice of his mind.
That day had been good, wonderful in fact. He had expressed and received a kind of desire that he never thought could be possible of him. Though his mother was still cold and his sister too young to understand naught but the need for food and attention. Draco rubbed his face into the velvety folds of his pillow as his dreams reminisced his earlier activities. Things were really beginning to look up after the recent tragedy.
Outside the ornately carved door of the Hospital Wing there swirled a being full of wrath and hatred. It's smoky curls ebbed in the faint light provided by the bright moonlight that crept beneath the large door. With a growl it passed into the room by the skill and silence of an assassin.
As it swept into the room the shards of light sliced across it's body, and where those shards sliced it appeared invisible, and where it was in darkness it was visible to all who may look upon it. The ward was empty, save a woman and her two children, one was a baby, held in her arms as she slept, the other was an adolescent boy, sleeping no more than five beds away from her. The chill in the relationship between the boy and woman radiated potently, like the chill of winter outside as one stood in the doorway of their warm home. It grinned evilly and as slow as a lazy breeze it slithered towards the boy.
As it approached it paused as the young blonde rolled over onto his back, murmuring something about waterweed. Of course the thing knew what the boy meant; ever since Christmas Eve it had been closely monitoring his actions. At last the misty person reached the side of the bed and looked down upon the sleeping lad. If it was alive it's heart would burst from confusion, not being able to decide whether it should fill with the hate of the betrayed or the love of one who could never receive love again. Shining brightly in all it's mixed emotions, the haze of it's form churning madly, it reached out to caress the face of Draco Malfoy. Alas, he was but a spectre, a cloudy projection of his former living self, and his hand passed right through the cheek of his son.
Draco woke with a jolt and Lucius rendered himself invisible. The other sat up shakily, his forehead shining with the sweat of a nightmare, and he lifted his fingers to his cheek, which was numb with cold. His dreams had been pleasant all night, he had dreamt of Hermione and mermaids, Granians and clouds, kisses and orange waterweed, but his sleepy visions had been paid a visit by the mares of night. All that had been in his dreams merged into a chaotic mess before disintegrating into a vacant blackness. And then Lucius was there. He drifted out of the dark, menacing yet sad.
'Father,' Draco had whispered, as he had stretched out his hand.
Lucius had not replied, but glared frostily at his son. He wanted to hold Draco, however his disappointment and rage held him back, and had drifted away as Draco had stepped forward. Lucius felt miserable as he saw the pained look upon his son's face when he had realised he could never be close to his father again. He hated yet loved the boy, and he soared over and stood before him. Draco lunged and wrapped his arms around his father, who exploded into myriad tiny flecks of mist before reappearing outside of Draco's embrace. He lifted his hand and struck his son across the face as hard as he could.
That was when he woke up.
Draco felt distraught and disorientated. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, staggering slightly. He had requested permission to sleep in the Hospital Wing with his mother and that permission had been granted. His mother, on the other hand, was still angry with Draco, and refused to speak to him and did not let him hold or see Rosace. He shuddered. It was freezing inside the ward, and his breath was to be seen in great foggy gusts. He looked over at his mother and sister, and their breath was visible too.
He walked to their bed and looked upon his sleeping sister, so small and delicate, so vulnerable and naïve in her raw youth. He smiled faintly and softly stroked her smooth cheek. She yawned in her sleep, displaying two rows of toothless gums. Again Draco smiled and left at the call of nature.
As he left Lucius became visible again at the side of his wife's bed. He checked with his silver eyes to see if Draco was completely gone, and then leant over to see his new daughter. She was exceptional, as far as babies went. Extra cute and very quiet, two magnificent qualities that everyone wants their baby to have. She would grow up to become a fine Malfoy; providing that Narcissa would raise her properly, and that she did not come into much contact with her brother. He longed to embrace the child, if not just to touch her, but after his recent attempt on Draco he decided that might not be a very good idea.
Lucius then gazed at his wife. She was perfect in everyway; she was loyal, loving and flawlessly buxom. An especially important value that proper pureblood women should have. Lucius Malfoy was *not* raised to breed with stick insects, therefore Narcissa Black was the ideal match in his eyes. (AN: She's supposed to be skinny in the books but what the heck). Lucius smiled, or smirked. He had never quite got the hang of smiling. He was stuck on smirking. Even after his death she was still faithful to him and the Death Eater beliefs. He silently praised the woman for her verbal attack on Draco when she had found out about the incident in the Owlry.
Hermione Granger.
A whore if ever he knew one. Mud ran through her veins, and a dirty film of grime layered her body. A mudblood whore. The worst kind of whore. She prayed upon the woeful, luring them during their vulnerable state of grief. He had seen them in the lake, and had been furious about it all day afterwards. As soon as he saw that first kiss he roared in rage and returned to his grave to rest in his body, the only comfortable place a ghost could ever be, and he fumed. The night was fully mature before he left to examine his son's activities some more.
At the sound of a flushing toilet Lucius became invisible once again. Draco entered the main area of the ward, rubbing his eyes and yawning. The ghost went to his son's bed, and tensed as Draco stopped right beside him to scratch a place on his back that he could not quite reach. He bent his head back and there it was on the smooth flesh of his neck, a great purple love- bite. Knowing that gills would prevent hickeys Lucius stared at his boy with pure loathing painted thickly over his face. It had happened after the lake incident, when he thought that it was over. His son *meant* to share passion with this grimy mudblood. Lucius snarled. Perhaps his son wanted to do this!
'YOU REVOLTING DISGRACE!' he bellowed, becoming visible again, soaring into the dark above so that he could be clearly seen. Draco stared in shock and horror at the sight of the silvery phantom among the rafters overhead. The dead Malfoy emitted a great dazzling light, his cloak fluttering wildly in his terrible wrath. His eyes became black like coals within the white glow.
'A MUDBLOOD IS NOT WORTHY OF YOUR PURITY! YET YOU CARESS HER LIKE THE QUEEN OF PUREBLOODS!'
Draco stumbled backwards in fright and landed upon the cold floor.
'YOU SHOULD BE DISPOSED OF LIKE THE DIRT THAT YOU HAVE BECOME! I WILL DELIVER YOU INTO THE FISSURES OF MADDNESS AND YOU WILL DESPAIR AND DIE!'
With a terrible screech akin to the cry of an eagle that rose steadily to its finishing note, Lucius Malfoy disappeared into the darkness among an explosion of luminosity. Draco was left quaking for all he was worth, goose pimples rising all over his skin. He sat up slowly and peered over at Narcissa and Rosace. They were both fast asleep. He returned to his bed with much difficulty, exceedingly traumatised by the confrontation. He wondered how long his father had been watching him after he had died, and he wondered how on earth a ghost could deliver him into the Fissures of Madness. He clambered into the bed and slivered deep into the covers, drawing them tightly around his pale body. Perhaps, after all, things weren't beginning to look up after the recent tragedy.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
AN ~ YAY! Chapter nine! I hope you like it. It's a little shorter than the rest. I roughly know how the story is going to end, but that is still quite a while off yet. Reviews are very tasty and low in fat and I am VERY hungry. *hint hint*. Chapter ten up ASAP.