Demons in the Light
Disclaimer : I don't own Harry Potter or Draco Malfoy. I just pretend to.
Chapter 1 – Sinful Beginnings
He thrust her roughly against the hard stone wall.
"Don't ever try to come back, never show yourself to us again."
He paused as she let out a cry, muffled by his hand. Angrily he threw a hand hard across her face.
"We're done. You knew that. Yet you kept insisting. Stop interfering with my life, this is for the better and you feel it. Leave me alone you filthy whore."
Pressing her forehead to the stone he glared into her soft brown eyes, alive with fright. Moving his hand down to her neck he took hold of it, slowly choking her breath.
"Leave, or I'll make hell come to life before your eyes."
He dropped her and stormed off, her delicate eyes followed after him.
"Harry…" She cried, her voice barely a whisper.
"…And then she stormed out. Just like that." Draco shook his head lightly.
"I tell you it's a mystery as to why you even went for that trash man. She raped you of everything but your hair." Blaise laughed slightly as he saw the frown on his friends face.
"No, actually…" Draco stopped walking, and turned his back to Blaise. Shifting his hair slightly, Blaise could notice the decent chunk taken from an under layer of hair.
"I told you man… foreign chicks are not the way to go. Why the hell did you let her touch your hair?"
"I didn't… she was giving me a massage and the next thing I know there's scissors out and hair flying."
Blaise laughed. The two continued walking down the hallway and stopped briefly in front of a large stone statue of a cougar.
"metronome" Draco said quietly, as he stepped inside the large heads' common room. Waving goodbye to Blaise he sighed and threw his books down on the armchair.
It was only just a few days shy of the last semester. Soon the students would be given a break, and new schedules would be handed out. For Draco, this meant time to relax and perhaps invite a few new ladies to his bed.
Looking around the room, Draco found he was alone. He sat on the couch, his thoughts soon clouding his mind. "Maybe it's just the season". He thought tiredly. Winter had always been a hassle for him. The cold weather wasn't helpful on his already pale skin.
He was jolted from his world when the door to the common room slammed shut. Not bothering to glance up, he scowled. "Next time Granger, don't take out your hormones on the door." He heard a light murmur come from the Head Girl, although it was not audible.
"What was that mudblood? Has Pothead got your undies all tied up?"
This remark turned on the waterworks for Hermione. Bawling, she ran quickly up the marble staircase leading to her room. Hearing the door slam shut, Draco sighed and grabbed his books, heading for his own staircase on the other side of the room.
"Mudbloods." He said to no one in particular, opening the thick oak door.
Throwing his stuff on the small desk, he yawned and fell onto the bed in exhaustion.
Blaise was right. He had made a mistake with Shi-ann. Fingering lightly over his bald patch, he thought about the first day he had laid eyes on her.
She was a gorgeous female, with an Asian heritage. Her family had moved from the West Indies after an invasion of her home by a clan of Spirit Followers, a group closely related to Death Eaters. Home schooled, her father had decided it best for her to return to his homeland in England, and enroll in a private boarding school. The invasion had left her motherless, and her father unable to teach her and handle his own executive business.
His relationship with Shi-ann lasted for 4 months, the longest relationship any Slytherin had carried out while classes were in session. He had put effort into the relationship, taking her out for romantic dinners and midnight walks on the classy side of London.
Draco sat up, throwing himself out of his memory trance, and gazed around his room.
HeadBoy did have its perks, including his own private study and mini library, small fireplace, and a large ornate bathroom, which he sadly shared with Granger.
"Granger." He spat, as if the name was infecting his mouth.
His trademark smirk appeared on his face as he remembered the night he had caught her and the famous scar head in heavy snog session on the couch. He had just finished a particularly gruesome quidditch practice and was more then ready to pass out. Just outside the portrait he could he faintly the loud moans coming from Granger. He pushed through the entrance and braced himself, seeing Potter naked was not on his to-do list. Surprised, he saw Granger sitting in her bra and pajama pants, covered in red splotches across her neck and collarbone. They jumped apart as Draco walked in.
Sniggering, he crossed his arms on his chest. Leaning against the doorframe, he stayed still, enjoying the episode taking place before him. "You know, I'm surprised at you Potter. I would have thought you would have gotten a little further then the 8th grade hickies." Both their jaws dropped, and before either one could answer, Draco had gone up the staircase and shut his door.
Laughing, he shook his head at the thought. It was just the beginning of the year, and he already had so much ammo he could blackmail Hermione to oblivion and beyond. He stood slowly, pulling off his shirt and jeans, and sliding on his silk pajama bottoms. He flexed his muscles lightly in the mirror. Giving his reflection a faint grin, he dove under the covers and charmed his fire out.
Hermione sat in tears. Her bedroom was freezing, the window was wide open and the fire was a smoldering pile of ashes. Not bothering to close the window, she silently climbed into her bed, fully clothed. Curling into a ball she cuddled with her pillow, in an attempt to give herself what little comfort she could.
He had abused her. Yes, that was true. Harry had come to accept her as a trophy, a possession. His fame had finally caught up with him, Hogsmede was swarming with posters, enchanted wands that sang praises about him, magical pillows that held his image and talked to you while you slept. Every type of fan merchandise was available for the great Harry Potter. With news of the war coming with great speed, it was no wonder the storekeepers were having troubles keeping the fans at bay. Harry gloated, literally floating in his warm welcome. It was true though, he was training harder then ever with the Order, practicing every night and early morning to be ready for Voldemort.
In her mind, it gave him some slack for the constant ignoring and cheating. "It's only him trying to deal with the stress" she mused, unsure of what to believe anymore. She blamed herself for not being there more for him, her schoolwork weighing her down from her love. They had gotten together at the end of last year, and Hermione had enjoyed the summer, where she had spent most of her time at the Burrow, relaxing with Harry and being carefree, the way normal teenagers should behave. Coming back to school was a heavy reality check. Harry had become abusive and spent most of his time cooped up in his room, where Hermione was sure he had invited Ginny and Lavender a few more times then one.
Sighing, she stopped crying. "Get yourself together Hermione. There is no way you should be acting like this. He'll come back, you just watch. In the mean time, don't bother crying. Use your brain; gods know how much homework you must have since school started. It's your final year! Embrace it!"
She calmed down slightly, She had stopped almost altogether with her schoolwork, it had just been an added weight for her and Harry, and anything to help him out would help her in the long run.
She stared at the pile of scrolls and textbooks, stacked neatly on the small desk to her right. Smiling, she snuggled deep under the covers, excited for the long night of reading tomorrow.