I Love to See You Cry
~hotsleekeyz~
Chapter 1 In My Dreams
***Draco***
"I'm not bad. I'm not evil. I just couldn't be as mediocre as the other students in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
"No one could stop a Malfoy from doing unnecessary show-offs. A Malfoy did I say? Must be mistaken for I wouldn't take a name that is, of cursed lives. Never did I think to be a descendant of a wizard who did nothing else but scare life forms with 'I will rule all worlds'-themed mishaps. I will not be like him."
************
In the Malfoy manor, Draco was sat on the couch of the north side living room. It was so large, and was made of the finest materials from different parts of the muggle world. Paintings that hung on the wall were all elegant. The wizards and witches on the paintings sung happy tunes while looking at a silent young Master Malfoy.
Saturday morning and Draco heard birds chirp from outside. Smooth blonde hair covered his face--- not in its usual hair do with all the gunk of gel he has to use to put it in place. He tilted his head slightly up, causing some strands of silken hair to show partly his eyes of steel cold. Draco had nothing else to do that day since school would not be up for until the week after that. So all he was in the house was a collection of cells without a purpose in life whatsoever.
"I miss school", he thought to himself, pondering on how the Gryffindors would stare at him like a prey whenever his foul words would reach Harry and Ron's ears after all the Quidditch matches they lost to Slytherin.
Harry, who was still Gryffindor's seeker was no match to Draco. Lucius just bought him a new broomstick, the latest, of which only families like the Malfoys could purchase. It cost all the broomsticks of Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor combined. Since Draco was Slytherin Quidditch captain that year, his father rewarded him for being Head Boy as well.
He let out a smirk as he was reminded of how girls would giggle even if he would only take a quick glance at them. He remembered a time when a girl smashed her head at the door of the Great Hall thinking he was looking at her. Well, he was, and the other Slytherins were, as they were having a good laugh at the poor girl. She had slime at the back of her robes that look as if she peed on it. Another time, a first year sorted in the same house as he was, suddenly ran up to him and asked for his autograph. "Aren't you the great Draco Malfoy, the seeker of Slytherin? My sister told me loads about you. I didn't expect you are as good-looking in real life. I'm Heather Mickelson. Am I SO glad to be with you in the same house!." He could not forget the look on the girl's face as he gave his autograph and gave her a small kiss on the cheek.
//Oh girls. Couldn't get away from my charismatic smile, pretty gray eyes, smooth pale skin.//
Surely, he had the charisma to melt the girls' hearts.
Then a thought of Pansy Parkinson entered his mind. . . In no time, he shrugged the thought off as bad memories of being naughty with her through the night, snogging, and shagging all through out just made him want to puke.
//That was a big mistake//
They had this thing on for two years and girls in Slytherin encied her for having the most gorgeous man ever to step foot on Hogwarts.
But Draco did not love Pansy. They just went out together since no other girl in Hogwarts had the same body as hers--- the right curves in the right places. Pansy had a line of suitors running after her, picking the books she intentionally drops, and carrying stuff around for her. But Pansy doesn't even have a face extraordinary enough to be fancied by Draco.
//Definitely not my type//
Feeling of deception and infidelity came over him as he recalled Crabbe and Goyle would tease him with Pansy, after seeing them making out in the Slytherin common room, that is.
//As if it is always the first time.//
He just wanted to touch her to keep him sane. He had nothing else to do.
He needed to find a girl who is worthy to have the valuable Malfoy seed--- though he was most certain it was not Pansy.
//Of course, I need to practice having sex with her before I get to marry someone. Malfoys do NOT make a fool out of themselves!//
A portrait of his father looked at him with discerning eyes.
Lucius Malfoy, one of the wealthiest wizards to ever exist in the history of the wizard world. Like his son, he possessed eyes that speak only of darkness and the least mercy he could have. He too had blonde hair laid away from the face just as Draco's, only longer than the latter's. His built is undeniably manly, by which he has inherited from the line of the Malfoys, which was rumored to be in the same line of You-Know-Who and Salazar Slytherin. Both have been marked darkly in the history of the wizard world for they knew not of the word 'mercy'. They killed hundreds, thousands of innocent lives that they could, even at the slightest movement of the finger.
Yes, they were considered powerful, but never great--- at least not for those who belong to Slytherin. . .
"Something bothering you my son?", a deep voice from the image on the portrait came out.
"Nothing. I was just thinking about school", Draco replied with no expression on his face. He continued by saying, "I thought you were in Romania to check on the dragons we have.and to give the pathetic Weasley there one hell of a fucking joyride with you? How are you able to use your image in the portrait to communicate with me?"
Draco spoke without even realizing that his words were not proper--- referring to the Weasley.
"Yes, I am in Romania at the moment. I used an entirely advanced dark spell to actually put myself in the position of my image in the portrait---that, you shall learn soon. I have used that to scare people from work when I have nothing else to do. Son, I should bring this to notice but I think you have lost your senses and have completely forgotten your wellness of speech I have taught you these past years. Never talk to me as if I am one of your rivals in school, Potter and Weasley. Never again should you use that language. It never occurred to me that you could stoop that low to actually use their language. You shall hear more of me when I get back. I am not through talking to you. I have to go now."
The portrait let out some smoke and the Lucius on it was again sitting down, writing on the parchment that is on the table.
//Who does he think he is to actually talk to me like that? Why even bother correcting my language when that is the only language appropriate for the like of Potty and Weasel. At least I wasn't being fair to them!//
Draco let the thought run through his mind with only utter contempt left for his father.
A few moments later, he forgot about his conversation with his father and looked from behind him and saw floating letters in the air.
The letters were all the same. It was the letter "H".
It made him wonder why such should appear in front of him. Blood rose to his head as he growled.
"Potter! He must be playing a joke on me!"
Draco then uttered the counter curse for it.
//That shall do it//
The counter curse was supposed to make letter "D's" ('D' for "Draco") float around Harry's muggle house on Privet Drive. Draco expected the Dursleys would have a nice time punishing Harry. Well of course, Harry did not do the magic inside the Dursleys' residence, but still, magic was in the Dursleys, and that would make Harry's Uncle Vernon hell mad.
Draco gave a small smirk as he imagined what the pigs on Privet Drive could do to that scene-stealer Scarhead boy. . . then Draco assumed his former position facing the windows.
He sniffed once and smelled something odd. A sniff came out of him again. He tried to decipher what it was. It smelled like a thousand roses enveloping his senses.
Draco wanted to know where it came from for it has drowned him in the scent. He felt it going through his veins, as it sent a different kind of vibration and warmth.
Wanting to know where it came from, Draco twisted his body waist up, and saw hundreds of red roses floating in the air. Petals came off each flower, making a shower of roses inside the living room. The petals circled through the room as he closed his eyes, enjoying the scent and the different feeling he was having at that moment. It was definitely his first time to witness such. He slowly opened his eyes, and saw the scene he never wanted to take his eyes from.
The flowers shimmered in what seemed like gold dusts. They looked like the thousands of stars at night---giving off light to every darkened spot.
After a few seconds of pure innocent bliss, Draco laid flat on the floor. Unconscious. . .
*************************************************************** Draco woke up in his four-poster without a clue how he got there.
//That was odd. The only thing I could remember seeing were hundreds of roses floating in front of me//
Trying to recall what happened, his eyes failed him, pulling him back to sleep.
*****************************************************************
Narcissa Malfoy, Draco's mother, entered his room.
She went closer to his son who was sound asleep who seemed like a baby, innocent and gorgeous. If not for the perfect match she and Lucius had, their son wouldn't be as good looking as he was.
Narcissa held the curtains to the side to give a view of a wide landscape of trees, other rare plants, a lake, and a stable west of the manor as the sun was setting slowly to give way to the night.
"It is night time, young Malfoy. You better get out of bed and freshen yourself up. Your father would be coming any minute now to join us for dinner", Narcissa said without looking at Draco.
"Hmmmm.Why did he has to come eat with us?", he said draggingly while hurting his fists that bumped the two posters on either side of his head as he stretched his arms out as he usually did every time he wakes up.
"Youch!", he told himself for the nth time never to stretch again as he has outgrown his bed.
"Draco, you know that it is a rule in this house never to miss a meal with the family if the reason you are out is not for emergency or any urgent call from the Ministry of Magic. Watch your words next time son. Your father would not be pleased with such unbecoming behavior"
Not quite listening to what his mother told him, he said, "By the way, what happened? Why am I suddenly here in my bedroom? The last thing."
Words failed him. He wandered his eyes around to search for answers but he wasn't able to.
He wasn't sure if he wanted to tell his mother about the roses he saw a while back. Draco was quite sure it was some kind of premonition, of something, that he knew nothing of.
"The last thing what? Continue speaking son, I am listening. I was wondering what happened to you. I know nothing of an illness you could get that would make you pass out just like that. Is something wrong?"
"Nothing. Maybe I was just tired thinking of school. I am excited to go back and make Potty and Weasel's life miserable in their last year in Hogwarts.", Draco made a chuckling sound as he thought of what happened moments before.
"I think you better not think about it too much. I don't want a gorgeous face on the floor again any time soon."
"Oh yes, I will."
Narcissa left the room and headed to their own to fix herself up. She tied her long black hair up in a bun and she put her jewellries in place, as if she was going to some social gathering. A spray of perfume was the last thing she did as she headed down to the dining area.
While still in his bed, thoughts of school came flooding through his head again. Students from Gryffindor, girls swooning, Pansy, he as head boy this year, and wait! There seemed to be something lacking in his list of concerns.
//My grades. it could only get better and better//, he thought as he remembered his mark in Potions, which was the highest among the students--- 99.4%.
Severus Snape, their Potions professor was head of the Slytherin and well enough, hated Hermione Granger, who was far more an intellect than Draco is.
//Hmph. At least in one class I get to be better than that filthy Granger. That mudb-//
He was not able to finish his thoughts when scent of roses hovered through his room once more. It was the same scent it had hours before. Slowly, the flowers became visible from blur reappearing as he last saw it. It glittered and made the whole room glow. He felt the same warmth, the unexplainable energy. . .
He seemed to be lulled in a certain state of peace.
In a quarter of a minute, he lost consciousness. Well, missing dinner.
**********************************************************************
Tuesday came and Draco still wasn't in the fit state to go around and to condition himself for the hectic school year ahead. Being Head Boy meant he had to spend less time for Quidditch practices and his studies (as if he gave a damn about his studies---he is born a natural smart ass, a handsome ass, that is).
But he didn't want the idea of wagering around the house through out. If he did not have anything else to do than walk and sit around, he should soon have calluses on his feet (not a pretty sight for feet like his!). Suddenly remembering his new broomstick, Draco went out of the house and took his sweet time walking through the plants his mother took care of, the lake by which he fishes during his childhood years and the herds of horses feeding on the grass.
It was only a hundred steps away. Draco didn't have that feeling of excitement through the summer. Ten steps, five, and then he faced the door to his own sanctuary. It was a house he had the house elves build when he was six years old. He would go there whenever he got lonely, or when his emotions were at extremes.
He held the knob and turned it clockwise and pushed the door to reveal a place where he is the only one who is entitled to have a pleasurable time in. Draco had filled it with stuff that was memorable to him. Not that he was sentimental, but he just wanted to make a collection of items that made Draco who he is today.
There were his old books through the six years he spent in Hogwarts. He had boxes of spare parchments and different quills by one side. Writing poetry had been one of his past times so he had to keep parchments ready. The window of the sanctuary gave a view of the lake at where it was most beautiful. His closet of old broomsticks since he was eight years was at the other side with broom care equipment atop it. He had lots of other stuffs there.
Then a certain trunk caught his eye. It was the trunk that contained his deepest secret. Draco took his wand from the pocket of his black robe and flicked upon the lock.
"Alohamora"
The trunk opened and revealed a collection only he was supposed to see.
It had canvass, watercolor, oil paint, paint brushes, stencils, different colors and types of pencils, and a lot more. So that was the Draco Malfoy we do not know. That was the Draco Malfoy we were not supposed to know about. Draco Malfoy was an artist---by heart. . .
He smiled as he was went through his stuff. Some artworks were there and he pulled them out of the trunk. One painting depicted the view of the lake, from inside the sanctuary, with the window sill showing and all. It was like a carbon copy of the view he was looking at right now.
The sun was about to set. As he went through his other works, he saw one that made him go blank.
The painting in watercolor showed a beautiful woman holding a bouquet of roses. It seemed like he has seen the woman before but could not quite remember exactly who. The woman, rather the lady, had smooth, free-flowing auburn curls, almond eyes, a small delicate nose, and such kissable lips as red as the roses she was holding. Her eyes were so 'magical'. It looked through his soul, and touched him where he didn't know exist.
"I shall put this in my room. I hope my wife would look someone like her. She only occurred in my dreams."
//Could you make a visit into my dreams again? I shall ask your name, oh pretty lady.//
Draco went through his other stuff and brought along with him a hardbound book with some blank pages in it. It was covered in velvet black and engraved on it are silver letters forming the words 'Devious Dragon'. The diary was bound with a green ribbon with silver linings.
He headed back to the manor and hurried upstairs so that no one would see him carrying ANYTHING. The house elves would then be not pleased to see young master Malfoy carrying anything around.
He placed the book, or a diary, if I may say, ny his bedside. The painting of the lady was tightly gripped in his hands, as if it was too delicate and fragile, that it would tear him apart if it would be mishandled. Draco placed it gently on the wall at the foot of his bed, and wished he would one day meet the lady in his dreams again.
Is Draco a softie? Nah. Some of his works depicts anger, hatred, jealousy (?!) and the like. He just found putting his dreams in full color rather amusing--- putting life into the image that was only fictional.
**********************************************************************
Friday came in fast with Draco spending much time in his sanctuary doing things he usually did. By that time, he had polished his broomsticks and packed his things ready for the next day.
//How unethical of the school to make us attend classes on a Sunday. I would have forgiven them if tomorrow would not be the first day of classes//
Surprisingly, Draco was first to come down for dinner. He had himself neatly fixed. His hair was laid off the face, with his suit properly worn, and an after-shower scent was on his pale skin. He could not contain his excitement, but he didn't let his parents know. He acted as if tomorrow was JUST ANOTHER DAY.
Lucius Malfoy, clad in his usual black cloak made his way through the long dining table to sit at one end. Narcissa trailed a few seconds behind making it to the other end. As usual, only Draco sat alone in the middle.
During the meal, conversations about school, work, and future plans came about as it usually did. But something else was given much emphasis t---the nearing marriage of Draco Malfoy.
"Son, as you know, you are to marry after your last year in Hogwarts. Afterwhich, you shall ensure your position in the Ministry. All other details are in my hands. I assume you will exert your best effort to have high marks this year. I don't accept anything less than a 95!", said Lucius with a firm, dominating tone.
"Draco, your father and I have planned everything out. The only thing left uncertain is who your bride shall be", Narcissa cut in.
"I know you have good taste in women like I do. Malfoys don't settle with someone less than best", added Lucius to Narcissa's statement as he looked slyly to her, as her face was illuminated by the candle light. It's evident that she was beautiful, even with the age spots and wrinkles. Undeniably, she was really gorgeous in her younger years.
"I wouldn't care half as much about that"
"Oh yes you should. You will not settle with just anyone in your school. . . Not that Pansy Parkinson I heard you were sharing nights with."
"How did you know about Pansy?"
"Would it matter much to you how I knew about your lustful nights with that bitch?"
"That is invasion of privacy!"
"I know. . . But this Malfoy in front of you would want to make sure that his son will end up in the right hands. . .Do I make myself clear?", Lucius ended his statement on the discussion about Draco's wedding.
"Crystal sir", Draco ended his.
"Oh why do you have to meddle through my personal affairs? Damn you!", he murmured without looking at his parents.
**************************************************************
Night came and it was time for Draco to sleep before his first day in Hogwarts. He grew tired thinking of what his father has been telling him for ages and he felt that he needed to doze off soon.
He jumped onto his bed with only his boxers on and he made his way under the sheets. He stared at the ceiling and saw nothing. He tried looking around but nothing amused him. Giving up on what his last thought for the night will be, he looked at the foot of his bed and saw his painting of the beautiful lady holding the bouquet of roses.
Draco stared at it for half an hour and slowly, his eyes started to fail him. He tried opening his eyes over and again, just staring at the portrait. He could not have found peace anywhere else than looking through the eyes of the lady.
The scent of roses filled the room again. Slowly, visions of the flowers came from patches of blur in midair. His room was again filled with roses that he never wanted to lose. Draco was already having an attachment with the scene at that moment.
Experiencing it seemed to be his comfort zone. Trying to fight his sleep, he opened his eyes full for the last time, and saw a lady smiling at him and slowly turning her head away in shallow tears. He wasn't sure if he was already dreaming or was it all true. The portrait he made just moved! The lady was real!
The lady tried facing him again and she gave him a faint smile. She whispered to the air.
"Draco."
Hearing this, Draco entered his sleep into his dreams. . . subconsciously wishing the lady would appear in his dreams, to tell him her name.
~Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns characters, setting, etc. Except: the plot is mine.~
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ This is the edited version. I hope (and I know) that the grammar, spelling and tenses are way better than last time. It's only now I've found time to edit it. . . imagine, it took me 6months to edit this!
Oh please, fellow HP fans, read, then review. Kindly drop your comments, suggestion, and just about anything. Constructive criticisms are most welcome. You can leave your e-mail addresses so that I could mail you. Inform me as well if you want me to send you a message if I've uploaded a new chapter.
Anyways, thanks to everyone who kept up with me this whole time. It really means a lot to me. You guys gives me inspiration to write, type, rewrite, edit, and throw (?!) my works.
Smile!
Tulaloo!
~kaye~
Chapter 1 In My Dreams
***Draco***
"I'm not bad. I'm not evil. I just couldn't be as mediocre as the other students in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
"No one could stop a Malfoy from doing unnecessary show-offs. A Malfoy did I say? Must be mistaken for I wouldn't take a name that is, of cursed lives. Never did I think to be a descendant of a wizard who did nothing else but scare life forms with 'I will rule all worlds'-themed mishaps. I will not be like him."
************
In the Malfoy manor, Draco was sat on the couch of the north side living room. It was so large, and was made of the finest materials from different parts of the muggle world. Paintings that hung on the wall were all elegant. The wizards and witches on the paintings sung happy tunes while looking at a silent young Master Malfoy.
Saturday morning and Draco heard birds chirp from outside. Smooth blonde hair covered his face--- not in its usual hair do with all the gunk of gel he has to use to put it in place. He tilted his head slightly up, causing some strands of silken hair to show partly his eyes of steel cold. Draco had nothing else to do that day since school would not be up for until the week after that. So all he was in the house was a collection of cells without a purpose in life whatsoever.
"I miss school", he thought to himself, pondering on how the Gryffindors would stare at him like a prey whenever his foul words would reach Harry and Ron's ears after all the Quidditch matches they lost to Slytherin.
Harry, who was still Gryffindor's seeker was no match to Draco. Lucius just bought him a new broomstick, the latest, of which only families like the Malfoys could purchase. It cost all the broomsticks of Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor combined. Since Draco was Slytherin Quidditch captain that year, his father rewarded him for being Head Boy as well.
He let out a smirk as he was reminded of how girls would giggle even if he would only take a quick glance at them. He remembered a time when a girl smashed her head at the door of the Great Hall thinking he was looking at her. Well, he was, and the other Slytherins were, as they were having a good laugh at the poor girl. She had slime at the back of her robes that look as if she peed on it. Another time, a first year sorted in the same house as he was, suddenly ran up to him and asked for his autograph. "Aren't you the great Draco Malfoy, the seeker of Slytherin? My sister told me loads about you. I didn't expect you are as good-looking in real life. I'm Heather Mickelson. Am I SO glad to be with you in the same house!." He could not forget the look on the girl's face as he gave his autograph and gave her a small kiss on the cheek.
//Oh girls. Couldn't get away from my charismatic smile, pretty gray eyes, smooth pale skin.//
Surely, he had the charisma to melt the girls' hearts.
Then a thought of Pansy Parkinson entered his mind. . . In no time, he shrugged the thought off as bad memories of being naughty with her through the night, snogging, and shagging all through out just made him want to puke.
//That was a big mistake//
They had this thing on for two years and girls in Slytherin encied her for having the most gorgeous man ever to step foot on Hogwarts.
But Draco did not love Pansy. They just went out together since no other girl in Hogwarts had the same body as hers--- the right curves in the right places. Pansy had a line of suitors running after her, picking the books she intentionally drops, and carrying stuff around for her. But Pansy doesn't even have a face extraordinary enough to be fancied by Draco.
//Definitely not my type//
Feeling of deception and infidelity came over him as he recalled Crabbe and Goyle would tease him with Pansy, after seeing them making out in the Slytherin common room, that is.
//As if it is always the first time.//
He just wanted to touch her to keep him sane. He had nothing else to do.
He needed to find a girl who is worthy to have the valuable Malfoy seed--- though he was most certain it was not Pansy.
//Of course, I need to practice having sex with her before I get to marry someone. Malfoys do NOT make a fool out of themselves!//
A portrait of his father looked at him with discerning eyes.
Lucius Malfoy, one of the wealthiest wizards to ever exist in the history of the wizard world. Like his son, he possessed eyes that speak only of darkness and the least mercy he could have. He too had blonde hair laid away from the face just as Draco's, only longer than the latter's. His built is undeniably manly, by which he has inherited from the line of the Malfoys, which was rumored to be in the same line of You-Know-Who and Salazar Slytherin. Both have been marked darkly in the history of the wizard world for they knew not of the word 'mercy'. They killed hundreds, thousands of innocent lives that they could, even at the slightest movement of the finger.
Yes, they were considered powerful, but never great--- at least not for those who belong to Slytherin. . .
"Something bothering you my son?", a deep voice from the image on the portrait came out.
"Nothing. I was just thinking about school", Draco replied with no expression on his face. He continued by saying, "I thought you were in Romania to check on the dragons we have.and to give the pathetic Weasley there one hell of a fucking joyride with you? How are you able to use your image in the portrait to communicate with me?"
Draco spoke without even realizing that his words were not proper--- referring to the Weasley.
"Yes, I am in Romania at the moment. I used an entirely advanced dark spell to actually put myself in the position of my image in the portrait---that, you shall learn soon. I have used that to scare people from work when I have nothing else to do. Son, I should bring this to notice but I think you have lost your senses and have completely forgotten your wellness of speech I have taught you these past years. Never talk to me as if I am one of your rivals in school, Potter and Weasley. Never again should you use that language. It never occurred to me that you could stoop that low to actually use their language. You shall hear more of me when I get back. I am not through talking to you. I have to go now."
The portrait let out some smoke and the Lucius on it was again sitting down, writing on the parchment that is on the table.
//Who does he think he is to actually talk to me like that? Why even bother correcting my language when that is the only language appropriate for the like of Potty and Weasel. At least I wasn't being fair to them!//
Draco let the thought run through his mind with only utter contempt left for his father.
A few moments later, he forgot about his conversation with his father and looked from behind him and saw floating letters in the air.
The letters were all the same. It was the letter "H".
It made him wonder why such should appear in front of him. Blood rose to his head as he growled.
"Potter! He must be playing a joke on me!"
Draco then uttered the counter curse for it.
//That shall do it//
The counter curse was supposed to make letter "D's" ('D' for "Draco") float around Harry's muggle house on Privet Drive. Draco expected the Dursleys would have a nice time punishing Harry. Well of course, Harry did not do the magic inside the Dursleys' residence, but still, magic was in the Dursleys, and that would make Harry's Uncle Vernon hell mad.
Draco gave a small smirk as he imagined what the pigs on Privet Drive could do to that scene-stealer Scarhead boy. . . then Draco assumed his former position facing the windows.
He sniffed once and smelled something odd. A sniff came out of him again. He tried to decipher what it was. It smelled like a thousand roses enveloping his senses.
Draco wanted to know where it came from for it has drowned him in the scent. He felt it going through his veins, as it sent a different kind of vibration and warmth.
Wanting to know where it came from, Draco twisted his body waist up, and saw hundreds of red roses floating in the air. Petals came off each flower, making a shower of roses inside the living room. The petals circled through the room as he closed his eyes, enjoying the scent and the different feeling he was having at that moment. It was definitely his first time to witness such. He slowly opened his eyes, and saw the scene he never wanted to take his eyes from.
The flowers shimmered in what seemed like gold dusts. They looked like the thousands of stars at night---giving off light to every darkened spot.
After a few seconds of pure innocent bliss, Draco laid flat on the floor. Unconscious. . .
*************************************************************** Draco woke up in his four-poster without a clue how he got there.
//That was odd. The only thing I could remember seeing were hundreds of roses floating in front of me//
Trying to recall what happened, his eyes failed him, pulling him back to sleep.
*****************************************************************
Narcissa Malfoy, Draco's mother, entered his room.
She went closer to his son who was sound asleep who seemed like a baby, innocent and gorgeous. If not for the perfect match she and Lucius had, their son wouldn't be as good looking as he was.
Narcissa held the curtains to the side to give a view of a wide landscape of trees, other rare plants, a lake, and a stable west of the manor as the sun was setting slowly to give way to the night.
"It is night time, young Malfoy. You better get out of bed and freshen yourself up. Your father would be coming any minute now to join us for dinner", Narcissa said without looking at Draco.
"Hmmmm.Why did he has to come eat with us?", he said draggingly while hurting his fists that bumped the two posters on either side of his head as he stretched his arms out as he usually did every time he wakes up.
"Youch!", he told himself for the nth time never to stretch again as he has outgrown his bed.
"Draco, you know that it is a rule in this house never to miss a meal with the family if the reason you are out is not for emergency or any urgent call from the Ministry of Magic. Watch your words next time son. Your father would not be pleased with such unbecoming behavior"
Not quite listening to what his mother told him, he said, "By the way, what happened? Why am I suddenly here in my bedroom? The last thing."
Words failed him. He wandered his eyes around to search for answers but he wasn't able to.
He wasn't sure if he wanted to tell his mother about the roses he saw a while back. Draco was quite sure it was some kind of premonition, of something, that he knew nothing of.
"The last thing what? Continue speaking son, I am listening. I was wondering what happened to you. I know nothing of an illness you could get that would make you pass out just like that. Is something wrong?"
"Nothing. Maybe I was just tired thinking of school. I am excited to go back and make Potty and Weasel's life miserable in their last year in Hogwarts.", Draco made a chuckling sound as he thought of what happened moments before.
"I think you better not think about it too much. I don't want a gorgeous face on the floor again any time soon."
"Oh yes, I will."
Narcissa left the room and headed to their own to fix herself up. She tied her long black hair up in a bun and she put her jewellries in place, as if she was going to some social gathering. A spray of perfume was the last thing she did as she headed down to the dining area.
While still in his bed, thoughts of school came flooding through his head again. Students from Gryffindor, girls swooning, Pansy, he as head boy this year, and wait! There seemed to be something lacking in his list of concerns.
//My grades. it could only get better and better//, he thought as he remembered his mark in Potions, which was the highest among the students--- 99.4%.
Severus Snape, their Potions professor was head of the Slytherin and well enough, hated Hermione Granger, who was far more an intellect than Draco is.
//Hmph. At least in one class I get to be better than that filthy Granger. That mudb-//
He was not able to finish his thoughts when scent of roses hovered through his room once more. It was the same scent it had hours before. Slowly, the flowers became visible from blur reappearing as he last saw it. It glittered and made the whole room glow. He felt the same warmth, the unexplainable energy. . .
He seemed to be lulled in a certain state of peace.
In a quarter of a minute, he lost consciousness. Well, missing dinner.
**********************************************************************
Tuesday came and Draco still wasn't in the fit state to go around and to condition himself for the hectic school year ahead. Being Head Boy meant he had to spend less time for Quidditch practices and his studies (as if he gave a damn about his studies---he is born a natural smart ass, a handsome ass, that is).
But he didn't want the idea of wagering around the house through out. If he did not have anything else to do than walk and sit around, he should soon have calluses on his feet (not a pretty sight for feet like his!). Suddenly remembering his new broomstick, Draco went out of the house and took his sweet time walking through the plants his mother took care of, the lake by which he fishes during his childhood years and the herds of horses feeding on the grass.
It was only a hundred steps away. Draco didn't have that feeling of excitement through the summer. Ten steps, five, and then he faced the door to his own sanctuary. It was a house he had the house elves build when he was six years old. He would go there whenever he got lonely, or when his emotions were at extremes.
He held the knob and turned it clockwise and pushed the door to reveal a place where he is the only one who is entitled to have a pleasurable time in. Draco had filled it with stuff that was memorable to him. Not that he was sentimental, but he just wanted to make a collection of items that made Draco who he is today.
There were his old books through the six years he spent in Hogwarts. He had boxes of spare parchments and different quills by one side. Writing poetry had been one of his past times so he had to keep parchments ready. The window of the sanctuary gave a view of the lake at where it was most beautiful. His closet of old broomsticks since he was eight years was at the other side with broom care equipment atop it. He had lots of other stuffs there.
Then a certain trunk caught his eye. It was the trunk that contained his deepest secret. Draco took his wand from the pocket of his black robe and flicked upon the lock.
"Alohamora"
The trunk opened and revealed a collection only he was supposed to see.
It had canvass, watercolor, oil paint, paint brushes, stencils, different colors and types of pencils, and a lot more. So that was the Draco Malfoy we do not know. That was the Draco Malfoy we were not supposed to know about. Draco Malfoy was an artist---by heart. . .
He smiled as he was went through his stuff. Some artworks were there and he pulled them out of the trunk. One painting depicted the view of the lake, from inside the sanctuary, with the window sill showing and all. It was like a carbon copy of the view he was looking at right now.
The sun was about to set. As he went through his other works, he saw one that made him go blank.
The painting in watercolor showed a beautiful woman holding a bouquet of roses. It seemed like he has seen the woman before but could not quite remember exactly who. The woman, rather the lady, had smooth, free-flowing auburn curls, almond eyes, a small delicate nose, and such kissable lips as red as the roses she was holding. Her eyes were so 'magical'. It looked through his soul, and touched him where he didn't know exist.
"I shall put this in my room. I hope my wife would look someone like her. She only occurred in my dreams."
//Could you make a visit into my dreams again? I shall ask your name, oh pretty lady.//
Draco went through his other stuff and brought along with him a hardbound book with some blank pages in it. It was covered in velvet black and engraved on it are silver letters forming the words 'Devious Dragon'. The diary was bound with a green ribbon with silver linings.
He headed back to the manor and hurried upstairs so that no one would see him carrying ANYTHING. The house elves would then be not pleased to see young master Malfoy carrying anything around.
He placed the book, or a diary, if I may say, ny his bedside. The painting of the lady was tightly gripped in his hands, as if it was too delicate and fragile, that it would tear him apart if it would be mishandled. Draco placed it gently on the wall at the foot of his bed, and wished he would one day meet the lady in his dreams again.
Is Draco a softie? Nah. Some of his works depicts anger, hatred, jealousy (?!) and the like. He just found putting his dreams in full color rather amusing--- putting life into the image that was only fictional.
**********************************************************************
Friday came in fast with Draco spending much time in his sanctuary doing things he usually did. By that time, he had polished his broomsticks and packed his things ready for the next day.
//How unethical of the school to make us attend classes on a Sunday. I would have forgiven them if tomorrow would not be the first day of classes//
Surprisingly, Draco was first to come down for dinner. He had himself neatly fixed. His hair was laid off the face, with his suit properly worn, and an after-shower scent was on his pale skin. He could not contain his excitement, but he didn't let his parents know. He acted as if tomorrow was JUST ANOTHER DAY.
Lucius Malfoy, clad in his usual black cloak made his way through the long dining table to sit at one end. Narcissa trailed a few seconds behind making it to the other end. As usual, only Draco sat alone in the middle.
During the meal, conversations about school, work, and future plans came about as it usually did. But something else was given much emphasis t---the nearing marriage of Draco Malfoy.
"Son, as you know, you are to marry after your last year in Hogwarts. Afterwhich, you shall ensure your position in the Ministry. All other details are in my hands. I assume you will exert your best effort to have high marks this year. I don't accept anything less than a 95!", said Lucius with a firm, dominating tone.
"Draco, your father and I have planned everything out. The only thing left uncertain is who your bride shall be", Narcissa cut in.
"I know you have good taste in women like I do. Malfoys don't settle with someone less than best", added Lucius to Narcissa's statement as he looked slyly to her, as her face was illuminated by the candle light. It's evident that she was beautiful, even with the age spots and wrinkles. Undeniably, she was really gorgeous in her younger years.
"I wouldn't care half as much about that"
"Oh yes you should. You will not settle with just anyone in your school. . . Not that Pansy Parkinson I heard you were sharing nights with."
"How did you know about Pansy?"
"Would it matter much to you how I knew about your lustful nights with that bitch?"
"That is invasion of privacy!"
"I know. . . But this Malfoy in front of you would want to make sure that his son will end up in the right hands. . .Do I make myself clear?", Lucius ended his statement on the discussion about Draco's wedding.
"Crystal sir", Draco ended his.
"Oh why do you have to meddle through my personal affairs? Damn you!", he murmured without looking at his parents.
**************************************************************
Night came and it was time for Draco to sleep before his first day in Hogwarts. He grew tired thinking of what his father has been telling him for ages and he felt that he needed to doze off soon.
He jumped onto his bed with only his boxers on and he made his way under the sheets. He stared at the ceiling and saw nothing. He tried looking around but nothing amused him. Giving up on what his last thought for the night will be, he looked at the foot of his bed and saw his painting of the beautiful lady holding the bouquet of roses.
Draco stared at it for half an hour and slowly, his eyes started to fail him. He tried opening his eyes over and again, just staring at the portrait. He could not have found peace anywhere else than looking through the eyes of the lady.
The scent of roses filled the room again. Slowly, visions of the flowers came from patches of blur in midair. His room was again filled with roses that he never wanted to lose. Draco was already having an attachment with the scene at that moment.
Experiencing it seemed to be his comfort zone. Trying to fight his sleep, he opened his eyes full for the last time, and saw a lady smiling at him and slowly turning her head away in shallow tears. He wasn't sure if he was already dreaming or was it all true. The portrait he made just moved! The lady was real!
The lady tried facing him again and she gave him a faint smile. She whispered to the air.
"Draco."
Hearing this, Draco entered his sleep into his dreams. . . subconsciously wishing the lady would appear in his dreams, to tell him her name.
~Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns characters, setting, etc. Except: the plot is mine.~
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ This is the edited version. I hope (and I know) that the grammar, spelling and tenses are way better than last time. It's only now I've found time to edit it. . . imagine, it took me 6months to edit this!
Oh please, fellow HP fans, read, then review. Kindly drop your comments, suggestion, and just about anything. Constructive criticisms are most welcome. You can leave your e-mail addresses so that I could mail you. Inform me as well if you want me to send you a message if I've uploaded a new chapter.
Anyways, thanks to everyone who kept up with me this whole time. It really means a lot to me. You guys gives me inspiration to write, type, rewrite, edit, and throw (?!) my works.
Smile!
Tulaloo!
~kaye~