Hello all! Aha! I uploaded! I actually made a third chapter! I hope you like it!
Disclaimer: I do not make any claims on anything but the idea for this story... and a couple of my OC characters that will eventually be brought in to this story.
Warnings: There will be HPDM slash. As in BoyxBoy love. Don't like it, don't read it. Also, I will be adding a couple (one in the least) OC characters to this story, But rest assured, none will be Mary Sues or Gary Sues, okay? Oh, and some things in the later chapters could be taken as incest (Not between close relatives!!! Ewww! More like cousins). It's not really incest, but some people might take it as incest
Blaise Zabini made his way through the dark, echoing hallways of Malfoy Manor. He was the first to respond to Draco's somewhat desperate invitations.
Blaise was tall, and he tended to tower over others. He had been slightly gawky when he was younger, and, because of which, he had been ostracized by his fellow Slytherins. However, he eventually grew in to his size, and became a devastatingly gorgeous man. He was all dark, ebony locks, straight, aristocratic features, dark, shining eyes, and golden-brown skin.
He had been vindicated. He became vain quickly, and had taken immense pleasure in rubbing his dashing good looks in the faces of all those who had demeaned him in his youth.
All, excluding Draco Malfoy.
Draco, who was quick and bright. Draco, who had never judged on looks, but on power and influence. Draco, who had accepted him into his court when they were oh so young. Draco, with his cold sneers, flashing eyes, incessant chatting, and cruel taunts. Blaise smiled at his thoughts. He wondered, idly, if he was masochistic or just bloody insane.
The hallway paintings whispered amongst themselves, clearly wondering why such a lovely young man was laughing for no apparent reason.
*
"Blaise, do you remember this room?" asked a distracted Draco Malfoy, idly stirring his strong chamomile tea. He was glancing around the small sitting room with a confused frown marring his face. Blaise fought the urge to reach over and smooth over the frown with his thumb.
"Hmm, maybe, but there are so many rooms in the Manor, it's hard to remember all of them," Blaise answered. Draco continued to stare around the room.
"No, there's something about this room..." he trailed off.
Blaise spared a glance around the room. It wasn't that different from all the other sitting rooms in Malfoy Manor. Maybe it was just a bit darker than usual, since the gothic windows were covered by dark red curtains. The fireplace was off to the side. The room was covered with paintings that sat silently; silent faces and silent voices everywhere. The floors were polished hardwood, and the chairs like all the others in the Manor. Nothing seemed all that different.
"I don't think so. It all looks the same to me," Blaise said in a murmur that Draco barely heard.
"I guess you're right," said Draco slowly, as if he barely believed the words that came from his mouth. Blaise smirked.
"You brought me all the way over here to talk about this sitting room?" the dark haired boy asked, faking hurt, "I feel slightly used." Draco snorted inelegantly.
"No, you utter prat, I brought you here so we could talk. I need to talk to somebody; I can't stand the silence anymore," the blond admitted.
Blaise looked over the top of his own tea suspiciously. What was Draco playing at, admitting a weakness so openly? Try as he might, the tall Slytherin couldn't understand. It was time to widen the playing field.
Blaise placed his teacup on the small plate, and reached over the small coffee table to grab Draco's arm. His long, dark fingers curling gently around the other boy's small wrist. Draco seemed startled at the movement, before reining his control over his emotions.
"Draco," Blaise started in a deep voice, "what's on your mind?"
Draco looked towards the painting hanging above the crackling fireplace.
"Do you remember when we used to play here? As boys?" The blond asked suddenly.
"Of course I do," answered the other boy.
"Did we ever," Draco continued, slightly shakily, "did we ever go in to the forest?"
Blaise was taken aback by the question. He slowly retracted his arm back to his side of the table, and grabbed his tea. In both it's meaning and the way Draco had voiced it, the question had seemed somewhat off, unlike himself.
"No," Blaise said determinedly, "no, we never did, because your mother and father restricted it. We weren't allowed to go in to the forest. Why did you even ask?"
Draco didn't answer, and, instead of looking relieved at Blaise's words, he seemed to be even more pale and shaken. Blaise felt another urge to wrap his arms around the smaller boy. He quickly squashed the urge. He was no Hufflepouf, and he could control himself.
Draco looked over at the damned painting again. What was so important about the bloody thing anyways? Blaise thought hysterically. It was hardly anything to look at. Just another Malfoy ancestor. Twins, by the look of it. Twin blond girls with pasty, unhappy faces and pale features. Just like every other bloody painting.
"That painting..." Draco said, again breaking the tension in the room, "it's new. I don't remember it being there before."
Blaise felt like smashing the teapot he was currently pouring.
*
Draco sighed after Blaise had left. What was going on? He wasn't stupid. He had known what Blaise had been expecting when he had arrived at the Manor. He had expected bed sheets, and wine. Like always, taunted his subconscious, always empty feelings and dirty stains. He hated it, absolutely hated it. Yet he always came crawling back for more.
But not this time. This time he had a reason for Blaise to be here. He had been trying to figure out who the dark haired boy in his dream had been. It was a silly notion, but he felt as if he had known the boy from somewhere, locked deep within his memories.
He stoped his musings for a second, and realised with a sudden shock that he had walked his way back to the dark sitting room he had chosen to entertain Blaise in. He cautiously made his way to the painting of the two young, sour looking Malfoy twins.
They stared down at him with unpleasant looks of contempt. He read their names on the small golden plate at the edge of the elegantly carved frame: Alcestis and Alcmene Malfoy. Draco frowned at the names. They didn't belong in this room; he knew that for sure.
Alcestis and Alcmene opened a pair of black fans and covered their mouths as they seemed to whisper and giggled furiously behind them. Draco grimaced in frustration. If they didn't belong here...
Then who did?
*
Jumping over tangled roots and ducking grabbing branches, they raced through the forest.
Don't trip, just keep running. Almost there, almost there.
Ding dong, ding dong. Church Bells?
No, nonononononooooo. We shouldn't be here.
Don't you hear? They're ringing again, We should go back now.
Don't worry. I'm here for you... you don't have to be afraid.
A warm, clammy hand clasps another. A tug.
Let's go in.
Ding, dong, ding, ding, dong.
An echoing scream. Red everywhere.
Ohmerlinmorganasalazarpleasenononoo... blood. Blood everywhere.
*
Draco woke again in a rush. An inevitable vertigo seized him, and he fell back against his warm bed sheets. He lay there, taking deep ragged breaths, for several minutes. When he finally mustered up enough strength to get up, he crawled out of bed, and grabbed a dark green, silk robe that hung from the chair, where he'd left it the night before. A quick Lumos, and a check of the clock that hung on his wall, told him it was 2:13 in the morning. Feeling restless, Draco slipped on the first pair of slippers he saw, and went to wander down the seemingly endless halls of the empty Manor.
He swept through the hallways with practised ease. Past the hiding places of his childhood. The small alcoves, the hanging tapestries, and the looping corridors were all stark, vivid memories, easy to remember. Yet, there was still a sense of something missing.
His swift movements through the Manor inevitably brought him to the dark sitting room from the day before. He stoped in front of the dark wooden doors. Draco brought two shaking hands up and pushed the door open. This was it...
He walked in. The room automatically lit up, and the fireplace roared instantly. Draco wandered over to the painting. The twin blonds in the painting seemed to be sleeping, curled in towards each other.
The Slytherin slowly, so as not to wake the slumbering Malfoys, grabbed the painting on either side of the frame, and slowly removed it from the wall.
The frame descended slowly, and Draco waited with baited breath.
Did you like it? Did you hate it? I MUST KNOW!!! Haha, okay, now I'm going to seep... -_-
Love, always,
-aetah