Disclaimer: I do not in any way own Harry Potter
A/N: Ahh, another chapter done. I am afraid it is another filler really, but it will be worth it in the end. Draco will come in soon (ish). I'll try to add a bit of him next chapter. I have 11 alerts already! I feel soo happy! Only 6 reviews though...But still good!Oh and for:
Ame Mika'zuki: the intro invovles the last scene of chpt,2 but you will see the true relevance later! And no the driver is not Hagrid. You gave me my best review though so thankyou! I like mad Dumbles, too funny. And thanks for the heads up on that line, i'll fix it later.
Warnings: See first chapter, SLASH
As he turned the corner however, Harry discovered that he had been misled. The house was nowhere in sight. He gave an irritated sigh and looked around, hoping to find some direction, 'Couldn't miss it'? Bloody driver.
On his left hand side there appeared to be a path, with towering overgrown hedges on either side of it. Harry had no idea where to go so he decided to follow it, and see where it led, hopefully it would give him an idea of how to get to the house.
He pulled his bag tighter to his chest and set off. With age, it seemed, the hedges had got out of hand and now blocked most of the path, making it very narrow. Harry swallowed nervously. He had never suffered from claustrophobia before but…these hedges were really tall. He continued walking, his breath becoming shallower. He really wanted to get out now. He could hear his own breathing in his head. He broke out into a run, trying to get out of the confined space as soon as possible.
He finally stumbled into a sort of close. It was still surrounded by those damned hedges but it was wider here and if he looked up he could see the sky. Which was looking quite turbulent at the moment. He paused to catch his breath and inspected the hedge next to him. It appeared to be yew. Why would anyone want a hedge made out of yew? This place, Harry decided, was just weird.
He suddenly stiffened when he heard a shuffling noise from close by. His breath hitched in fear, as he imagined what could have made it. It was ruffling now, a little like feathers and he could hear the scratch of footsteps on the floor. He waited, routed to the spot.
From between the hedges jumped out a white, ghost like creature. Harry gave a strangled cry and jumped right into the bush behind him. He gave the ghost-thing a look of horror. He hadn't even got inside and he was going to die, it wasn't fair damn it! He looked at it again, wanting to see his death.
It was a peacock. Harry blinked. Yes, still a peacock. Though, admittedly, a very strange one. It pecked the ground a couple of times, a lot like a chicken, then cocked its head at the petrified human that was half submerged in the yew hedge. It was completely white; Harry didn't know you could get albino peacocks. He looked it up and down, still clinging to the hedge. It looked a little wild; feathers were sticking up in odd places and its talons looked far too sharp for his liking. However, it was the eyes, which were still locked on him, that made Harry shiver.
They were a glistening red, like overripe cherries and seemed to pierce right through him. Harry was sure that those eyes were not normal. Yes, a very strange bird indeed.
The peacock gave an odd trill, which sounded like nails down a chalkboard mixed with a sort of squawking noise. Harry shuddered again at the sound and was most grateful when it dove through the other side of the hedge. Harry moved forward to pick up his dropped bag, wincing slightly at the ominous rattle that was produced. He hoped that whatever it was that broke, was not expensive.
He briefly made sure his heartbeat had returned to normal after his encounter with the red-eyed monster, before setting off down the path once again. Bloody birds.
It didn't take him long to get to the end and come out on a rather impressive scene.
Harry was still pondering on how long that peacock would be haunting his nightmares that he didn't immediately notice. The only reason he looked up was that the wind, which he had been sheltered from in the hedges, was back again.
He couldn't help but gasp slightly at the sight before him.
The house in front of him was definitely impressive, even in its dilapidated state. It looked as if many centuries ago it had been a castle but then had been remodelled, more into a sort of manor. There were no crenulated walls at any rate. Most of the building was made up of a dark grey stone that would of slashed the sky when newly built, but now age had softened the edges and made it almost…welcoming, oddly enough. It wasn't all stone though, some walls were painted white, with black wooden beams across them, and grey slate tiling on the roofs, though much of it was missing in places.
The front had great wooden doors; twenty feet high, that Harry was sure would have been incredibly imposing when they had been in their full glory of the past. The most eye-catching feature, however, were the various towers that rose up into the sky, all made of dark grey slate-stone.
Harry took a glance at the surrounding grounds. From what he could see, the front seemed to be mostly made up of lawns. In the middle there was a gravel road, which led from the house, winding down to wrought iron gates, which were chained shut. Harry presumed that that was where he would have ended up had he followed the paved road. Maybe the driver wasn't so bad after all.
As grand as it all was though, to Harry, it all seemed far too still. As if all the life had been sucked out of it. There was a fountain just before the entrance. It surely would have been beautiful but now, pieces had been broken off, it was covered in filth and it was clogged with half decaying leaves. Even the grass was dried and lifeless beneath his feet.
Harry gave a sigh and shook off his musings on the landscape. It wasn't what he was here for and he really needed to get his mind back on track. No more getting scared out of his mind by birds and certainly no more panic attacks brought on by innocent hedges!
He walked with a purposeful stride towards the front door. It had a few large, wide steps to get up to reach it and then Harry was faced with trying to open them. "Oh crap" Harry muttered. They doors looked rather heavy, and very solid too.
With another sigh Harry dropped his bag to the floor and proceeded to put all his weight against one of the massive doors. For a moment or two it refused to move, but with a bit more pushing it finally began to grind open. He could only open it so far though; luckily it was enough for Harry to slip through with his bag.
He was once again faced with quite the sight. It must have been the entrance hall.
It was huge. He was immediately faced with a great, sweeping staircase. The hall itself was just as large and all of it seemed to be made of white marble. It was covered in a sort of blue-grey dirt now though, and mixed with the dust, it removed a lot of its splendour. On one side of the staircase vines had broken in and were beginning to trail up the banister as well. A lot of the windows were missing their glass or were heavily cracked. There was a flutter and Harry looked up. A wood pigeon flew up near the high ceiling. It landed on a structure that might have been the chandelier. There were several pigeons up there, Harry noted. They appeared to be nesting.
Harry started digging around in his jacket pockets. Where was it? Ah. He pulled out a slightly crumpled piece of a paper and began to unfold it. It was a map that Dumbledore had been kind enough to supply him with. With all the floors and rooms it was a little confusing, but it was much better than being left to stumble around all night. From what he had heard, doing that often resulted in an untimely death. Yes, he just had to be smart about this and nothing could go wrong. Well, he had to try to think positive didn't he?
He studied the map. He frowned a little at the red crosses that marked some places in the house. He checked the key, 'places people have known to have died'. Actually, that would probably help. A bit morbid perhaps, but it would at least tell him where to steer clear of. He had no desire to die.
He checked the map for a room that would be good to stay in during his visit. It was a little difficult; there were a lot of crosses. One of the towers seemed promising; at least he would have a really good view.
The wind blew in through the windows, making him shiver once more. He looked up. It really was getting dark. He probably only had about half an hour before the sun fully set. Definitely time to find a place to spend the night. Preferably where he would wake up in the morning.
He tried his best to follow the map, but damn if it wasn't confusing. There were just too many rooms in this place Harry decided. He checked the map once again; the tower entrance should be just down this corridor and then to the…right! No, to the left! Yes, to the left. Harry sighed to himself.
He walked down the corridor. It had taken him twenty minutes to get this far. The castle didn't have any electricity supply, so he was relying only on the waning light that was coming in through the windows. It really wasn't sufficient and it made map reading exceedingly difficult.
Some paintings on the wall caught his attention. The first one was of a severe looking man with long blonde hair and a sneer twisting his features. Harry frowned, he was sure the man would have been quite handsome if it wasn't for his expression. He read the nameplate underneath.
' Lucius Malfoy' it said in peeling letters.
Harry's frown deepened and he moved onto the next portrait. This one was of a woman. She also had light blonde hair, though she managed a small strained smile. This one was labelled, 'Narcissa'. He peered closer; he could see premature lines on her beautiful face.
"Well, don't they look happy" he said sarcastically. Quietly though, he didn't want to disturb the unnatural quite. It seemed near sacrilege to do so.
The last one in line held his attention the most. It was a boy, no more than perhaps eleven or twelve. He was seemed to be staring at the painter with an expression of uttermost boredom and distaste. It was quite disturbing actually. The boy's hair was even paler than the people who were obviously his parents. He had pale skin to match, making him look a little sickly under this light. He had dark grey eyes, like his father Harry noticed absently, but they appeared to have a greater intensity to them. If such a thing was possible in a painting of course. Harry could also tell that the boy would have had great looks when he was older. Not that that really mattered.
The sky rumbled slightly and Harry was brought back to the present. He really needed to get to that tower. The light was fading fast.
He walked down the remainder of the corridor and turned left. There was a thin wooden door. Harry easily pulled it open and saw same stone stairs twisting upwards. He followed them, highly aware of the clicking noise he made as he went up. It wasn't very long before he reached his destination at the top and came upon another door. He opened this one just as easily as the first and entered a circular room.
It had a shelf, which most probably held books once upon a time, but now only held dust and a spider's web in one corner. There was also a very simplistic bed adjacent to the large window. There was nothing else in the room, not even a chair. He put his bag down by the bed and clambered over it to take in the view from the window. This tower faced the back it seemed.
Forest surrounded the expansive grounds, enclosing it off from the outside, much like the trees had done to the paved road. There was a large tree; Harry didn't know what kind, which was tucked around a corner. There also was yet another pathway, this one seemed to twist and turn through the much more wild looking back garden. Harry decided he preferred it to the comparatively neat front lawns.
The sun was completely gone by now and night was encroaching in. A gust of wind blew through the open window and ruffled Harry's hair once again, this time sending a tingling sensation through the scar on his forehead. It wasn't unpleasant exactly, just odd. The oddest thing being why was it tingling at all. He ignored it,there was nothing he could do about it anyway.
Harry leant against the windowsill, staring out as the stars began to appear in the sky, the wind occasionally sending shudders down his spine. Harry had always been fascinated with the night sky. On bright cloudless nights, the stars and moon seemed to sing to him and keep him company when he was feeling particularly lonesome.
He let out a somnolent sigh. He needed to stop thinking about this right now. With all the travelling, and the jetlag, he really should try to get some sleep. He dropped down onto the bed so he was kneeling and gave the bag on the floor an irritable expression. There was recording equipment in there that he needed to set up. The thought irked him. He really could not be bothered to do it. Besides, it was dark now; he shouldn't go gallivanting off in the big haunted castle now should he? No. Definitely not. He had some common sense after all.
He had seven whole days here. Which wouldn't officially start until tomorrow anyway. He wasn't even sure where he should set up either. He pondered this thought for a few moments before reaching a decision. For the next couple of days he would get a feel for the place, explore, that kind of thing. Then he would decide where to record. With that decided, he kicked off his shoes and lay back in the bed.
It was highly uncomfortable.
Harry shifted, trying to find some comfort. It didn't work. With a groan of annoyance he reached for his bag and dragged it towards him. He jerked it open and pulled out a white, rather comfy looking pillow. He placed it behind his head and pulled the slightly moth-eaten blanket over himself. It was a little disgusting, but it was getting cold, the window didn't have any glass after all.
Surprisingly, he fell into dreams within minutes.
He was running. And it was painful. That was all he could comprehend. He needed to breathe, faster and deeper. But he couldn't, every inhale shot a sharp pain up his spine and down again. His legs felt as if they were on fire, the pain was making his mind numb. He needed…he needed…what did he need to do? Run…runaway, that was the only thing in his mind, playing like a broken record…run…
He felt his fear mount as something closed in on him, he could feel his heart hurling itself against his ribs, breath coming out in coughing spurts. He needed to move faster, but he couldn't, he couldn't run anymore…he couldn't, his legs refused to move. He felt another's breathe on his skin and-
Harry awoke with a scream on his lips. He looked about wildly before realising he was alone. All alone. He curled in on himself under the blanket, panicked tears in his eyes.
He whimpered. He could still feel the breath on his neck.