Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter…etc.
Hi everyone! I am a new author and this is my first fic. I hope you don't get discouraged from reading because of that fact. Umm, I REALLY appreciate reviews and constructive criticism. Please do not flame. This is a Draco/Herm fic, btw. Oh, and thank you to my beta! She is my cousin and her penname is Junglibeast. Here you go, let me know what you think. ;)
Prologue
He benevolently roamed the corridors as if he owned the very walls of the castle; this being unrelated to the fact that if he so chose, the sizable fortune that he recently acquired would be more than adequate to do the job. His demeanor screamed elegance, aristocracy, and arrogance. Yet, there was an almost inexplicable danger about him. One thing was certain; something about him had undoubtedly altered.
No one was sure of whether it had manifested overtime, or whether the change had occurred abruptly. But, when he returned to Hogwarts as a seventeen year old, an adult, everything seemed different. In part, people may have felt that those rumors circulating around the wizarding world could be liable for the "sudden" change.
That day, when the Daily Prophet printed the news, the thought itself seemed laughable. Yet, when her eyes had drifted across the Great Hall and landed upon the prime suspect of the murder, he suddenly seemed capable. Not mentally, because she always felt that a part of him was evil enough to harness the desire to hurt someone. But was he, a mere boy, magically inclined enough to completely overwhelm an Auror and savagely murder him? Not just Avada Kedavra, but death by unreasonable torture. In the years she knew him, he appeared as if the very sight of blood would make him squeamish.
Most people, especially her two best friends, presumed he was trained in the dark arts from an early age. It was highly likely; his entire family line seemed as if they were engrossed in the darker side of magic, so why not him? Perhaps the memories of their previous years were still fresh in her mind. The countless naïve threats of "Wait until my father hears of this!" rang in her ears as if they had occurred yesterday.
But it hadn't. His father was still, astonishingly, in Azkaban. For some reason, the Ministry hadn't taken his generous "donations" as payment for his crimes.
His son, however, was beginning to unnerve her. She never thought of herself as a person easily frightened by anyone, much less him. Yet now, when he glared at her, she was more than just slightly perturbed. There was something beneath the surface that she was missing. Her personality was such that she had an almost imperceptible and natural need to know what was going on. There was more to this murder than what was printed in the paper. And she was determined to find out.
A/N: I have already written chapters one and two and I will be putting them up soon depending on the reviews I get. Thanks for reading.