Harry Potter and the Average Asian
New Years came, and with that came a huge party. Hermione was looking particularly ravishing at said event, in a short silver dress, with bits of white fluff trimming the long sleeves and low cut front. Her unruly hair was miraculously smoothed into curls, which were pushed back by a long and rough hand. Hermione leaned into the owner of the hand, her bosoms heaving, her breath caught. With that, the hand's owner reached down and kissed her, slowly running his hands down to her...
Oops, wrong story.
A certain blonde haired fellow has been neglected in this story, and this problem needs to be addressed. And yes, Luna IS a girl. We are talking about Draco, Draco Malfoy. A person, who, having hated Harry Potter for a great deal of his life, had let this fierce passion consume him. Consume him to the point...
Of a terrible, terrible mistake.
On Christmas morning, Draco had awoken, as the other students, to find his presents missing. Not paying much mind, he hoped instead for a gift of something better upon seeing his mother. His Christmas was uneventful, except for a very satisfying kick to Harry bloody Potter in his Hairy bloody Arse. His "wish" was granted, upon opening the present from his mother and finding…Three platinum rings, embedded with silver, each inlaid with large emeralds. Pansy Parkinson caught eye of them, her eyes fairly bursting at the sight.
"Ooooh, Draco! Those are fabulous!" She looked down at her own gift of a gaudy, yet expensive, emerald bracelet. She sighed. "I wish I had some…this is all I got." Pft, Slytherins.
Draco shot a look at her, and lightly tossed his present carelessly to the side. "Rubbish." He said nonchalantly in regards to the presents. Pansy gaped, and scampered off. Barely regarding the brief "conversation" with Pansy, Draco searched through his mound of presents. Briefly registering who gave him what, he came across a small, unmarked package.
It was wrapped in bright yellow wrapping paper.
Draco sneered. A Hufflepuff sent him something? A Hufflepuff? Opening the present, he was taken aback at what he saw.
It was a drawing. A simple drawing, but a beautiful one, Draco had to admit. In it, a panda and snake were hugging. Who could have such insight to draw such a spectacular piece of art? Draco inwardly wondered how much he could sell it for…or where he could hang it in his room. Ravishing the picture one last time, for fear of being caught in a state of weakness, Draco reached the last present. It was a small, black box, and the black wrapping paper that had kept it in its womb had simply disappeared when he touched it. Opening it, he found a smaller, green box. He opened that only to find and ever smaller blue box. He finally opened the final box, another black one which looked to be spotted with raised, dark red spots. Running his fingers over them, he noticed the spots came off much like a picked scab would. Not that he had ever demeaned himself to do such a thing, of course. Continuing to open the gift, he dropped it. Quickly looking around, he saw inside the thing he had secretly been seeking for quite some time.
Inside was a black envelope, with a green seal. The seal was a skull with a snake coming from the mouth.
It was the Dark Mark; the symbol of the Death Eaters - of Voldemort.
It was his summons.
His breath caught, Draco looked at the other Slytherin's piles of presents. He didn't see any similar box, and they all looked quite carefree.
He grabbed the envelope, which seemed to burn his hand, and rushed out of the Great Hall, rushing to the Slytherin dungeons, and straight into his room. He breathed deeply to stop his exhaustion induced panting, and practically ripped open the seal.
The letter was blank. How on earth was he supposed to reply to this, when he didn't know what it said? Before he had time to think on it more, he felt the feeling of a portkey rip behind his navel, and he was sucked somewhere where it was very, very dark. Draco Malfoy's first instinct was to stay still, fearful of what was in this strange new place. Shameful of the thought, he clenched his teeth and sucked in his cheeks, eager to become a minx. Or ferret. Draco quirked his own eyebrow. Exactly where had that thought come from?
"Draco Malfoy."
Draco jumped up and turned this way and that, unable to find a light source to view the owner of the raspy voice that had just spoken.
"Who's there?" Draco asked boldly, keeping the sneer from his voice. With no intent on turning into a cowering Hufflepuff, he also had no intent on…well…dying. He knew he was a smarmy bastard. But would the Dark Lord understand?
"Cocky, are we?" The hoarse voice said once again. Draco cocked - tilted - his head to the direction he thought the voice was coming from. A dull light, barely distinguishable, suddenly permeated the room. Draco squinted his eyes to see through the murky light; he must have been in a large room, he thought, because he couldn't distinguish any walls. Raising his eyebrows and squinting, his eyes practically to the point of closure, he could make out someone sitting in a seat a little way from him. How did he hear him so clearly?
As suddenly as the light turned on, the figure in the chair was closer to Draco. Draco could not make out his face, but saw a long leg covered in black pants crossed over another. Draco was a little taken aback to see the figure sitting in what appeared to be a wicker patio chair.
The figure spoke. "Draco Malfoy, I am correct in assuming you came here through your Summons portkey?"
Draco nodded. Thinking the figure - he determined it was a man - couldn't see him, he began to speak. "Yes, I got i-…"
The man - Death Eater, Draco corrected - interrupted him. "Yes, yes, you did. I'm sure you, being the Slytherin that you are, know the process of summoning?"
At this, Malfoy felt quite embarrassed. His father hadn't actually told him the full process, and he wasn't very keen to visit him in prison. He needn't answer, though, as the Death Eater answered for him.
"No matter, I'm here to ask you some questions."
"Questions?" Draco questioned.
"Indeed. Now…"
The light that was murky before completely disappeared. Initially, anyway. The light now was solely on Draco, and was still very muddy. Always one who enjoyed the spotlight, Draco was fairly certain he wasn't taking pleasure in this beady, sinister spotlight.
"First question." The voice practically drawled. If the voice, hence its roughness, wasn't so high, Draco would have sword Professor Snape was talking.
"What house are you in?"
Draco was a little confused by this question. The voice had identified him as Slytherin before.
"Slytherin." Draco answered.
"Correct." The voice replied.
Draco waggled his eyebrows at this. Say what?
"Are you a pureblood?"
At this, Draco regained his confidence. "Of course."
"Good, good. Correct."
Draco was beginning to wonder about his questioner, or what, exactly, this whole process would amount to.
"What are your feelings on the Dark Lord?"
Draco's regained confidence quickly drained. This was definitely an easy question to say the wrong answer to.
"Feelings…" Draco began, "aren't adequate enough to describe the Dark Lord. He is all powerful, all knowing, and is by far the most powerful wizard ever known to walk the earth. My allegiance is to him and his work."
"Hmm…Very good answer, Draco."
Draco, relieved by the questioner's response, waggled his eyebrows once more. Were they on a first name basis, now?
A series of questions were asked, with Draco spouting off the most Slytherin answers he could. Occasionally he would say a rather groveling answer in conjunction with an attitude of service towards He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but none-the-less, Draco felt he was making an impression…when finally they reached the last questions.
"Draco Malfoy; would you be willing to kill Harry Potter?"
"Of course." Draco answered within a heartbeat. Before he could even finish saying "course", his neck seemed to clench. His arms suddenly felt very sore, and his legs felt very numb.
He couldn't move.
"Would you be willing to kill Harry Potter, at the risk of your own life and reputation with the non-Death Eater world, the minute you are back at Hogwarts?"
Draco, regardless of his now labored breathing, would have had a difficult time answering. Right now? He hated Harry Potter, but he was only sixteen. He had no intention on being thrown in Azkaban with his father so young. Why, he hadn't even fully opened his presents yet!
"That's what I thought." The voice answered to Draco's wordless reply.
The invisible restraints on the young Malfoy's body lifted. Heaving deep breaths, the murky light filled the room once more.
"You will return to Hogwarts; and you will kill Harry Potter."
"What?" Draco hissed. He rubbed his legs, trying to regain feeling in them. While he did this, though, he felt his fingers brush across something wet. Blood? When had he cut himself? With that thought, he saw the glint of something red somehow shining throughout the room. It came from a small vial held in the hands of the questioning Death Eater.
"Your blood, Draco."
"My…?" Before Draco could finish, he realized what he had done; the answer of "of course" to the earlier question had been sealed as oath with his own blood.
"Aw, sh-"
"Such language, young Draco."
"Shouldn't you be calling me Mr. Malfoy?" Draco sneered, angry for being taken advantage of, and fearful for being indebted to the Dark Lord; especially when he was not yet a death eater.
He felt a slap to his cheek.
"You will gain that respect once you've earned it!" The voice sneered. He then asked, quizzically, "Why did you slap yourself?"
Draco realized he had slapped himself. "Oh, um, well, I don't really know w-"
Before he could finish, the Death Easter stepped through the gloom, and the blonde-haired boy vaguely distinguished his face. He looked vaguely familiar.
"Who are you?" Draco boldly asked.
The murky face smirked. "Regulus. Regulus Black."
...to be continued?
Note: I AM SO, SO, SO SORRY FOR MAKING ANY OF YOU READING THIS. I deeply, deeply apologize for making this chapter NOT be funny, and have something of a plot. Thank you for reading, as always. Reviews are always welcome. I promise their won't be another chapter this plot laden, so don't worry MiSSxMELON!