Chapter Two: Banshee Cries and Stiff-y Aromas

Disclaimer:

I do not own Harry Potter or anything in relation to the books. Hell I'm not even going to say the plot is mine! Just remember I'm a poor college student who lives of her parents and makes minimum wage at a low class job. I've got nothing you would want so don't sue!

Authors Note:

A rather short chapter… But it's just for introductions. This may be a little confusing but bare with me. It will make sense, just a little later in the story probability the third or forth chapter. It all depends on how the story flows because while I do have an out line most generally I don't follow it. Things change... oh well. I hope you do like it!

My Lovely Reviewers

Wicket Willow: Thank you for your lovely review. Knowing that people enjoy my scribbles is really nice to know.

K-Cat: LOL Here you go! Hot and fresh out of my brain oven!

sbkar: You're awesome you know that! I can never catch these mistakes myself! That's why eventually I hope to get a beta reader! Thank you for your positive criticism. It is greatly appreciated I assure you. Oh and about the trunk… well you'll just have to wait in see! I haven't forgotten about it, I just can't decide where I want to take it in the story. If you understood that… LOL

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"You'll do this, and don't forget that. Remember the family name…Don't loose face, and don't embarrass me. You'll regret it if you do!"

A pale hand massaged a headache, willing the annoying nattering of his father away. It had been the same since his inheritance back in June, and had only stopped after he'd stepped foot on the train to Hogwarts.

This year everything was to change. He wasn't going to be allowed to sleep in the dorms, play quidditch, or even have his choice of classes. Every thing he would do this year would be determined by his mate… if of course they were even at Hogwarts.

He had been given specific directions on what was to be done the moment he arrived; meet Snape, find his new room arrangement, and of course begin searching for his mate. Lucious wanted his son to complete his inheritance soon; apparently the Dark Lord had taken an unhealthy interest in him since he'd hit fifteen; to end that nasty out come before it started he needed a mate. His Mother was no better in her want for 'grand -babies'. Hell, she'd already begun decorating the spare rooms in the south wing of the manor! It all came back to his mate…Damn it.

Draco plastered on a sneer thinking about this 'problem' that came with to many of his ancestors having illicit affairs with magical creatures. Thanks to them he would have no control of his life. He was a slave to his mate, and would willingly or not, bid their commands.

He gripped the seat trying to ease his aggravation on the seat cushion. The sound of ripping brought his out of his musings, and he looked down. Long four inch claws protruded from the ends of his hands. They were the blackest of ebony contrasting wildly to his pales skin. Where they were jagged, he was smooth; black to white; opposites in everything… Just like his mate…

Draco's head ripped up. "Mate?" Is that what he thought, but how…? He didn't know anything about his mate. Honestly he didn't know anything about himself. He just knew what he was told; through books or otherwise. So how….

The window seemed to tremble, and his luggage dancing upon the shelf. A high pitched ringing sound abounded into the room, and Draco hit the floor. It was so intense that his vision swam. It took him three tries to get off the floor, he fell once, twice and each time the frequency increased.

Draco stumbled to the door, trying if nothing else to see who was making all the bloody racket. He turned the handle and the noise softened almost an unnoticeable amount. He stepping into the hall and the frequency lowered slightly. With every step he took whether it was into the wall or otherwise the noise quieted. This didn't stop the room from shaking nor from the pounding in his head. He noticed vaguely that people were staring at him. They stopped their conversations and focused on his lithe frame stumbling down the halls, often using the walls as support.

"whatcha doin' Malfoy?"

"Draco are you okay? Do you feel sick?"

"Hey Drake, let me…"

"Draco how 'bout…"

"Having trouble Malfoy?"

"Draco…"

"…Malfoy…"

"Oi!"

"Hey…"

Draco's head swam. The voices seemed to parade around his ears, mixing together, multiplying… making no sense what so ever…. And then they stopped.

His vision cleared and he looked around. People were staring at him from all directions, whispering behind their hands, and sneaking suspicious glances at him. Hardening his resolve, Draco squared his shoulders and faced the crowd.

"What are you staring at? Have to gawk at your superiors? Well, piss off; I haven't the time to deal with the lower class!" He sneered, pinning his gaze mainly on the younger years as they scrambled away. Once the hall had emptied Draco dropped his posture, and raked a hand through his loose hair only vaguely aware that his claws had retracted.

That sound, that almost unbearable sound; it seemed no one else had been affected by it, and yet he had practically been crawling down the hall in order to get a reprieve. It was gone now just as suddenly as it had come, and so Draco began a short trek to his compartment. However, two steps in the direction from whence he'd come led him to stumble backward three; right into a delectable scent which had never been there before.

Citrus and wildflowers surrounded him in their aroma, teasing not only his senses but also his groin. Draco groaned as the over-powering desire hit him in a wave of insatiable heat. His blood felt as if it was boiling with in his veins; pulsing in a way that was almost painful, yet wonderful in its playful vexing.

Sweat pooled down his brow as it would with a fever and once again the ringing began. Its sound was no longer that of a banshee, but held the same longing and sorrow. It called to him, and slowly Draco heeded it; determined to find its source. Perhaps the solution to this plaguing mystery of his anguish would be solved at the end of the hall.

He had expected everything to change… just not so soon.