DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters. 'Sides, you'd get more blood out of a turnip then you would money out of me! HA!
AUTHORS NOTE: I'M BACK! If you would be so kind, review and tell me what you think of this. I had the sudden urge at 3 am to wax poetic over good ol' Voldie. FYI, it doesn't rhyme because I happen to love free verse.
They come to me lily white,
pure to the core,
but leave jaded and flawed.
I show the world as it really is,
hate, lies, death,
and tarnish their virgin skin.
I'm tainting the innocent, snuffing out their light,
they dream of glory, I kill them slowly,
tainting the innocent to feed my greedy pride.
SUMMARY: Harry feels like he's in hell, Draco's living through a nightmare. Can they help each other before it's too late to save either one?
FROM THE LAST CH.: "Fine, whatever," Harry said in a huff. "So I'm an unobservant shmuck. I got it already, so will you two please stop cackling like a pair of crones?"/ "Oh, Harry," Hermione said with a final chuckle. "We mean no harm by it."/ "Hmpf," was his reply before laughing manically and attacking his two friends with the chair cushion.
Tainting the Innocent
Chapter Twelve
He stalked along the corridor on his way back to the Gryffindor common rooms while thinking over what had just happened. Eleanor Burmingsdale, a fifth year Hufflepuff, had stopped right in his path and, egged on by her giggling housemates, asked him the Halloween Dance. Harry had been about to gladly accept, Eleanor was a very pretty girl after all, when her friends began whispering loudly.
"Ooooh," one of them squealed in excitement. "He's going to say yes! Lucky Ellie; going to the dance with the Harry Potter!" They all had quite similar things to say on the subject and Harry's response soured in his mouth. He declined the invitation with cold civility and left her to scold the twittering biddies for scaring him away. His stormy expression as he swept through the halls had the poor little first years scuttling away in fear until he was blessedly alone.
Of course she doesn't want to go with me, Harry thought bitterly, kicking at a stray piece of crumpled parchment lying on the floor. She just wants the Boy-Who-Lived. He stopped to glare out a window, the serenity of the moonlit scene an affront to his thinned temper. All anyone ever wants is the bloody Boy-Who-Lived. No one seems to realize I'm a human being, not even Ron and Hermione. I'm a very valuable tool now, but they'll probably forget all about me once Voldemort's dead. Won't have anymore use, now will I?
His face grew sad as he contemplated his future for the millionth time. He'd been doing that so much lately that he couldn't sleep and Hermione was beginning to worry over how tired he looked. What do I do after killing the insane mass murderer, if I even survive? An office job with the Ministry's going to seem boring when compared to the life I've lived so far, he thought, slipping down onto the cool stone.
He drew his knees up to his chest and rested his head on them. "What am I going to do," he whispered quietly. He slowed his breathing to prevent the rising depression. Nothing was going how he thought it would after discovering the wizarding world. It had been such a miracle that first day, but then he'd found out about Voldemort and his parents. Even then, the lunatic was ruining Harry's life and continued to do so every chance he got. But once he was gone, what good would Harry be to society? He'd been born to kill this man, so what was left once that was done?
He remained that way for several minutes, trying to figure something to do with his life after destroying the worst evil the world has ever known, and slowly drifted off into sleep.
"It is done, My Lord," Lucius Malfoy gushed, looking quite proud.
"Good," he hissed, studying the blonde man kneeling at his feet. "I trust you have proof of your deed."
Fear briefly flashed over the aristocrat's face before he answered with a slight tremble. "Yes, My Lord, but I fear it isn't much. The spell I used to kill the blood traitor incinerated her body. This is all that was salvageable." Lucius snapped his fingers and a house elf toddled forward with a bloodstained handkerchief. The cowering creature unwrapped the gory parcel and revealed a slightly singed finger decorated with a simple opal ring. "The ring was a birthday gift from my son this summer."
"This was all, you're sure," he asked doubtfully.
"Yes, my lord," Lucius replied. He could see no falsehood in his follower's mind, but something didn't ring true.
"You knew before taking on this mission," he said coldly, "that I would expect evidence. A finger bearing a ring I do not recognize is not adequate proof."
"I did, My Lord," Lucius said, his voice trembling more than before. "Unfortunately, the protective magics that she had cloaked herself in reacted explosively with mine. There was nothing left to bring back, other than this." Something still didn't seem right about the whole thing, but he would digest it for a few days, torture it out of Malfoy if necessary.
"Very well, Lucius, you may go," he said testily. "In the future, however, be certain to follow my orders to the letter."
"Thank you for your understanding, my Lord." Relief washed over Lucius's face before he stood and walked away, the finger bearing house elf running to keep up.
Harry felt his consciousness come rushing back and pain exploded through his body, originating in his scar. He rolled onto his side and lay their whimpering for a moment before struggling to his feet. "I've got to find Malfoy," he gasped out, stumbling towards his dorms and the Marauder's Map.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox
He'd been battling it out in the Astronomy Tower for quite awhile though his breathing remained level. His movements were eerily silent, agile, and deadly as he shifted his body through the positions.
"Shadowboxing, Draco," asked the indolent voice of Blaise Zambini as he climbed up the ladder.
"Really, darling, you should have just asked," Pansy continued, following him in and shutting the trapdoor.
"How'd you know I'd be here," he asked. Draco waved his hand in dismissal and his shadow sank back into the floor, stretching out behind him in the moonlight. He dropped into a defensive position as the other two Slytherins gracefully circled him, looking for an opening to attack.
"Didn't," Blaise said, feinting before continuing his prowl. "Came here for a good spar ourselves; you're just an added bonus." They both rushed him then and there was no more time for talk. The three friends held nothing back as they pummeled each other, fists and feet striking viciously against flesh. The attacking two were having a difficult time landing blows and deflecting them despite the fact that Draco had already been at this for two hours. The three of them continued on to the brink of exhaustion, neither side willing to give in, until it became obvious that he wouldn't be brought down. They fell apart and lay panting on the stone floor.
"How d'you do it, Drake," Blaise asked.
"Hm," was the tired reply.
"Push yourself that far; keep giving just as good as before even when you're zonked."
"I'm just better than you, Zambini," Draco said cockily. "No tricks involved."
"Hey now, you-"
"Boys," Pansy said shortly, sitting up slowly. The bickering ceased instantly and the two offenders returned her glare with sheepish glances. "Save this for the morning, won't you? Let's head down to bed now." She rose from the floor unsteadily and opened the trap door.
"Yay, bed," Blaise said enthusiastically. "Come on, Drake, let's turn in."
"You two go ahead," the blonde said, lying on the floor with hands behind his head. "I want to stay a bit longer."
"It's getting quite chilly, Draco; maybe you should-"
"Pansy," he groaned, tossing her a look of exasperation. "Will you please quit mothering me? It really doesn't suit you."
"Hmpf," she said huffily and stormed down the ladder.
"Did you really have to use the m-word to her face," Blaise whined. "Now she'll be bitchy for days and the guys and I'll be the one's to bare it."
"So sorry, really I am," he said insincerely. "Do make sure to close the door on your way down."
Rolling his eyes at the blonde, Blaise climbed down to try and placate a pissy Pansy, closing the door after himself
2ND AUTOR'S NOTE: I know I promised a lump for this update and it's a short one to boot, but I NEED A BETA! Oh, pretty, pretty please! Also, I wont update anymore until I get some constructive reviews. Hmpf! As much as I love any type of feed back, "update soon" and "cool fic" don't really help me grow as a writer. Thank you.
