Oh, but this is fun… hope you like it
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He lay sprawled over the high-backed chair that served as his throne. In the midst of his father barking orders at the servants and the confusion of preparation, he lay with one finger resting on his temple- the calm in the middle of a storm. He closed his eyes and sighed.
"S-sir?" A voice broke into his thoughts.
" What?" He snapped, his eyes still closed. He could sense a figure in front of him. No doubt the person was terrified.
"Y-our father." The voice trailed off.
He sat up and opened his eyes. What did his father want now? His silver eyes narrowed as he surveyed the man in front of him. It was Snape, and he was trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, being that he was dressed in the bright emerald robes of a servant. Snape had been on the receiving end of many of his tempers and looked as though he expected another.
He smirked at the servants' obvious discomfort, " Well, what does my father want?" he spoke slowly and deliberately, as though speaking with a child.
" He wishes for you to start getting ready for the … sir." The 'sir' was added hastily, as though he would take offense to his fathers wishes and take out his displeasure on the servant.
"Fine." He lay back on his throne and closed his eyes again.
Snape stared t him, his mouth working frantically.
"What?"
"Er… your father… he wanted to see you… well, now, sir." Ezekiel carefully watched his expression. Perhaps now would be a good time to make his retreat.
As the servant watched, his lips parted to reveal two very sharp, glistening fangs. Ezekiel tried to bow and run at the same time and failed, falling hard on the cold marble floor.
The lips twitched, but he managed to maintain a stern expression as again he opened his eyes to glare at the servant, who looked rather like a large toad trying to right itself.
He leapt off the throne and landed next t the now-paralyzed body of Snape. His lips trembled next to the servants' ear, " Never again try telling me what to do. I do as I please and no to please others. Understand?"
"Yes." The response was a whisper.
"Very good."
Thus said, the prince righted himself and stalked away from the figure sprawled on the floor.
……………
No! She pulled herself out of such thought. Her eyes widened in horror. The sobbing had stopped. Rowlan was beside her, wiping crimson streaks from around his mouth…
"Luna." The strangled sound escaped her white lips.
Rowlan smirked, "Such a sweet girl."
She tore free of the loosened grasp and threw herself on top of her sisters' prone body. The cold cheek, always filled with roses was now white… and her eyes, which had always sparkled, now stared at her Hermione in a blank, accusing stare.
She was dead and it was all her fault. If she had listened this would never had happened. If only.
"Get up, girl." Rowlan said roughly unswayed by the tears that fell at his feet when she was pulled away from her sister, her little doll.
His hand was in front of her face and the last this she remembered was a glittering dust in her eyes.
………
So, do you like it? If you don't, well, lie and say you do…