Summary: Shaken by a ghastly nightmare, Harry is unable to go back to sleep, worried about his Prince. He wonders about the Malfoy Manor, desperately looking for Draco.
It was dark. So very, very dark. I'm afraid. Where am I? I can't even feel my fingers. Tears begin to run down my face, with even more tears pricking at my eyes. I run, although I doubt that would help. I run even faster, sweat beginning to dot my forehead. It was cold too, and my sweat made the chills even worse. My breathing was raspy and short, every breath I drew felt like a knife stabbing my chest. I faltered, and felt the ground disappear under my feet. I fell. I fell, for how long I don't know, but it was long. I felt weightless, like I was floating, not falling. But all of a sudden, gravity seemed to pull hard on my body, like a rope was pulling me toward the ground. I tried to struggle, but the force was too strong. I collided with the ground a few seconds later. I groped around, trying to see with my hands. 'Draco!' I called out. 'Draco!' His name began to echo around the darkness surrounding me. I ran a hand through my hair nervously. 'Draco…' The darkness suddenly turned to light, hurting my eyes. The blinding light dimmed into colours. My eyes slowly adjusted to the colours.
'Harry..' A familiar voice said behind me. 'Draco?'
'Harry..' He repeated.
'What's the matter, love? What's -?' I paused, looking unsure. I looked into Draco's grey eyes. What I saw scared me. They were glazed over, and the irises of his eyes had whitened. There was no emotion in them. I'm too afraid to describe what they looked like to me, the very thought of them scares me. It was as if he were a zombie. 'Draco, love, what's the matter with you?' He advanced toward me. 'Draco? Draco?' Fear was very evident in my voice.
'I'm taking back what's mine Harry.' He said. Even his voice didn't belong to him. It was monotoned and mechanical, not very Draco at all. There was no love in his voice, no reassurance. Just nothing.
'What are you talking about? What do you mean? I didn't take anyth-'I stopped short. He reached out and lay his fingers ever so lightly on my chest. I opened and closed my mouth several times in silent protest, but nothing came out. What the hell was he doing?
There was a devilish smirk on his face, the one that he was so famous for. An evil glint in his eye proved nothing, except the darkness that lay dormant in this Draco's heart. He pushed hard, his fingers penetrating my skin and flesh. I gasped in surprise, but nothing came out. His fingers pushed harder, until they reached my heart. Blood oozed out of the gaping hole as his fingers wrapped themselves around the pounding muscle. 'This belongs to me.' The mechanical voice suddenly turned into pure venom. He literally ripped out my heart, and left me there. He held my heart in the palm of his hand, the muscle still beating. The blood trailed down his arm, and drops of it lay evident on the floor. I was gasping audibly, each breath growing shorter. Pain was unbearable.
'H-how could you?'
' This is mine.'
A sudden mechanical laugh filled his head before his vision completely faded to black.
Harry awoke bathed in his own sweat. He was panting hard, his chest rising up and down rapidly. He rubbed his face feverishly. Harry felt his chest, feeling for the frantic beat of his heart.. Yes, it was still there. Where was Draco? He felt the space beside him. It was empty. "Draco!" He fumbled around in the dark, groping for his glasses. He slipped them on his nose. He threw the covers off him and nearly jumped out of bed. His feet touched the cold floor, and he shuddered slightly. Something wasn't right. Where was Draco?Even though he knew the Manor very well, there were still several hidden rooms and passageways. Stumbling in the half- dark, Harry felt along the walls. He fell through a secret door, concealed as a wall. Music played in the background. The sort of music that was usually played at carnivals or circuses. It was one of the rooms that one of the Malfoy ancestors built to confuse enemies. The Revolving Mirror Room. Harry gazed at his reflection. He studied his face for a while, but saw not himself, but Draco. He touched the cool surface of the mirror, whispering to this reflection as if he were whispering to Draco himself. His breath left trace of condensation on it. He smiled sadly to himself. He sat in the middle of the room, staring at nothing. "Where are you…?"
It was already three in the morning and still no sign of Draco. Harry's coffee had gone stone cold, but he drank it none the less. The cold liquid sank into his stomach. His hand was shaking uncontrollably, threatening to drop his coffee mug any moment. "I swear, I'll kill you when I find you" he muttered to himself. Giving up completely, he walked into the main entertainment room. He dumped his tired self onto a squishy armchair, and took out his wand. A cheery fire was lit, and the room felt considerably warmer. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He studied the room. There were tapestries on the walls, portraying triumphant Malfoy battles. There was a family portrait of Draco and his parents. He seemed rather young, about two or three at least. He was so adorable, Harry thought. Even at that age Draco had the air of confidence and poise. A smirking Lucius Malfoy stood proud and elegant, possibly the sexiest thing on earth. That is of course, next to Draco. His mother, Narcissa was looking unbelievably stunning, as always. But there was something strange about her. He scanned the portrait again and realised that her belly was slightly bloated. Draco had a sibling? No, that's not possible. He told me that he was the only child. He'd never lie, right? Whatever the case may be, he'll wonder about it later. The Malfoys. They looked like a family. Like there was actual family loyalty. What happened to that loyalty? Probably Voldemort's fault. Or maybe just Lucius's. Again, he'd have to ask Draco later. WHERE THE HELL WAS HE? Harry fell into a deep sleep.
"What are you doing Harry? Harry!"
A mechanical laugh drowned his plea. Harry watched as Draco twisted his mouth in pain.
"This is mine…"Harry woke an hour later, to the sound of a distant piano. The notes were irregular, sometimes a note on its own, and sometimes a string of notes tumbling together quickly, trying to form a song. He stood up, dropping his empty mug onto the carpet. He strained his ears to follow the music. The music was so forlorn, so sad. It sounded as though it were trying to say something, trying to tell its sad story to him. There was a loud bang, as if someone had slammed his hands onto the keys of the piano. Harry flinched slightly, awoken from his drowsy stupor. He was in front of the music room. The notes continued to play, running away from each other, and straining to catch up. Harry's hand was poised over the knob of the door, barely touching it. He breathed. He turned the knob.
And there was Draco Malfoy; head slumped over the keys of the ancient piano, dark crimson dripping off the edges of the keys. His fair white-blond head stained with an unholy red, his grey eyes staring. His right hand was still positioned just above the keys, his left fallen at his side, poised in position. His fair lips were slightly gaping, revealing perfect white teeth. The keys moved by themselves, as if they were being played. They played the same wondering notes that hypnotized Harry. Even in death his dear Prince still possessed the same beauty, the same elegance, and the same poise. Harry stared at his beloved Prince, unblinking. He walked numbly to him. Harry slowly lifted Draco's body from the piano, and lowered him slowly to the ground. He cradled the white-blond head in his arms as if he were holding a baby. He hummed so softly to himself, humming the same wondering notes over and over again.
"I took back what's mine Draco…"