Chapter 1 : Prelude
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Her echoing steps stopped when a thunderous crack rumbled overhead- from the angry skies outside. She shifted the keys in her hand easily, sliding it into the magical lock, mumbling something under her breath and tracing her fingertips along the cool metal. The cell unlocked and she grinned. It was dark, but she knew he was in there. His presence could be felt. The door behind her clinked shut and she stepped in, her boots cruel and harsh in the damp, dark cell. The rain pounded the walls, and when the lightning illuminated his hiding spot in the dark she grinned and laughed.
“I’ve been waiting along time for this day,” She snarled wickedly, “Hello Malfoy.”
December 17, 1997
The moment he hit the ground, cold and dead, there was a loud shriek through the ball room. And it was then, all hell broke loose. She couldn’t see what was going on from where she had been, standing perfectly against Theodore Nott’s side, but as students began to run in opposite directions she could see it- Malfoy, bloodied and wild, eyes wide and heavy, feral almost, standing at the door, heaving. Opposite him was a cold body, a cold Zabini body with Hermione Granger at his side. Her curls were loose and wild as she stared at him, at Draco, standing up before him.
“You’re a monster!” She screamed loudly, “A monster!”
But there was no Draco at this point- instead appeared this veela creature (she knew he was a veela, the whole house of Slytherin knew) in his eyes, a horrible and twisted glint. He smiled at her, gleaming gross teeth and straightened up.
“You want to see a monster, Hermione?” he called to her in a sing song tone, “I can be a monster,” he finished with a snarl, and began to point his wand everywhere.
Theo fled. He grabbed her by the wrist and tugged her along, ducking out of the way of spells that shot from Malfoy’s wand. They had made almost half way across when he sent out another killing curse- this one hitting Theodore Nott in the chest.
He instantly fell cold, lifeless and rigid on the ground, bringing her with him. She looked around frantically, but there was nothing to be seen- everything was a blur. She turned her head to look back at Theo and was hit hard in the face, searing her cheek and skin. She cried out in pain and everything went black. The rest of the Yule Ball was blank.
Daphne Greengrass kept her arms folded over her chest as she smirked at the shadow form of Malfoy, crouched in the corner. He turned his face to her, his startling silver eyes staring at her widely, as if she were a strange species in his territory, when actually he was in hers. With a long pale finger she beckoned him forward.
“You know what day it is,” she said with a sick smile. She’d been waiting for him to fall into her hands. She watched as the list of kissed wizards dwindled, his name moving higher and higher up the list until finally it landed in her lap. She happily checked his name, signing off that today would be the day he would be kissed. She told her guard that she would do this one by herself, and he looked like she had just slapped him silly. Being warden had its perks, after all.
She watched carefully as Malfoy unfurled himself and stood up, his thin and lean body growing taller than hers. He could physically overpower her if he so desired, but her magic could knock him back down to size in a heart beat. She had, after all, become quite adept at dark magic here. He stepped out of the dark and into the slim sliver of light, revealing his blond hair-nearly as white as his skin- hanging down in front of his face and down his back. It was long, as long as hers. As he studied her face, her smirk became a scowl.
“You like what you’ve done Malfoy?” she snapped at him, turning her cheek so he could get a full look at the gash on the side of her face. The gash went back to her head where a part of her skull could be seen. He could see part of her cheek bone and the hollow of her cheek was nonexistent.
“This is what you did to me,” She snarled, “There isn’t enough healing potion or glamour charm in the world that can cover this damage.”
Malfoy watched her silently for another moment before he broke out in horrific laughter. His tone mocking, he laughed at her as she stood there, fuming at him.
“You were always so vain Daphne,” He sneered. In a second she had him in a painful body bind curse, eyes as wild as her blond curls.
“My son won’t even look at me,” she answered him, “He wants to know why I look like this. And you want to know what I tell him? I say ‘Theodore Montague, a very ill man did this to me,’ and he wants to know who. And so I tell him. Draco Malfoy did this to me. And you know what else? He wants to kill you. Graham wouldn’t mind a swing either, hell Nott Sr. would like a go at you too. But you’re all mine, and times up today.”
Throughout her entire speech he had begun to laugh, cruelly mocking her pain as if it were some joke. Azkaban would do that to a person-turn him inhuman. But Malfoy was inhuman, part real and part fake. Even before he came in here. And he was going crazy, slowly. He was turning dangerous. He was part veela-and his mate wasn’t with him. Daphne debated on telling him where she was. He would never find her anyway. Not like he would have the chance anyway.
“Get up,” she snarled at him after she had released him from the bind. He sputtered and spat on the ground for a moment before he stood up. Quickly she had transfigured shackles all around him, not to mention magicked a ward around him from head to toe. Then, with the ease and practice of a cruel warden, shoved him out of his cell and towards the kissing platform.
He walked down the hall with his head held high. He could hear the cool breathing of men in cells around him, some whimpering some labored, as he walked toward the window. Thunder cracked over head and but he never faltered in step- keeping his feet steady and hallow against the ground. Daphne prodded his back, forcing him forward. He let out an animalistic snarl.
Daphne knew-she’d known since school-that he wasn’t all human. Veela, that’s what he was, and there was this animal in him that just begged to be free. Daphne scowled at him. Where he was going was a much better place for him than the wizarding world. Daphne smirked.
“Where you’re going,” she said with a sly smile, “Is a much better place for you.”
Malfoy began to laugh at her, a wild animal laughed and turned his head to look at her.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he laughed, “I’ll always be there, right against your skin.”
Suddenly he turned around ad shoved against her, his body against hers as he pinned her to the wall.
“Can you feel me Daphne?” He whispered against her wounded cheek, “There in your skin, underneath all those scars. Can you feel my power? How about Nott? Can you feel him here-” he shoved his hands against his chest, “I’ve eaten his soul-taken it. How does your little boy feel without his father?”
Daphne’s eyes went wide, startled, “How did you-”
“It’s obvious,” he said, “Even that night. Lucky I didn’t get you or-”
Daphne had shoved him away from her angrily, taking her wand out and hitting him with a sharp curse. He flew backwards, head hitting the damp stone with a sickening crack. He groaned, his body slack as she sauntered toward him, towering over him. He looked up, blood dripping from the crack in his skull.
“Get up,” she snarled at him, “Time’s up.”
With a flick of her wand she had him set up right. She gave him a hard kick in his back and he tumbled forward. The moment he straightened back up, he could feel her wand pressed in the middle of his back. She guided him forward and with a silent spell the heavy door at the end of the prison swung open to the rain and winds, the platform waiting for him.
Daphne shoved him out onto the rain-drenched platform, instantly becoming soaked with the cold sleets of rain. Daphne followed, but she had charmed herself so that the rain did not touch her skin. A guard stood out on the platform near her. He nodded and she yelled out.
“Prisoner 00016789, Draco Malfoy,” she said. The man comprehended it for a moment before he, too smiled.
“So it’s finally time,” he said, staring at Malfoy’s back. His long hair whipped around in the heavy wind and he looked up to the dementors in the sky, circling, waiting. Daphne looked at him and he turned around.
“Anything last words Draco?” she called to him, “Before the dementors take you away?”
Just then, Malfoy let out a horrific grin, dark and gleaming as he stared at her. Spinning completely around to face her, he murmured under his breath. The murmur became a chant in a language she’d never heard before. Daphne scowled, stepping forward and looking up to the sky, summoning the dementors down. She was uncomfortable- his eyes never left her face, and her scar began to tingle, then burn and soon she fell to her knees in pain.
“Stop!” she shrieked, clutching her cheek, “Stop him!”
Just then Malfoy moved his arms, shackles breaking free off of him. The guard stepped forward and pointed his wand at him.
“Don’t move,” he said, but Malfoy wasn’t listening. He was laughing at them. Slowly he stepped backwards toward the ledge. “I said don’t move!”
But he laughed, eyes staring down at Daphne as she wriggled on the ground. His smile never faded off his face. He walked up to her, leering closely to her face he chuckled darkly under his breath.
“Where I’m going,” he mocked her, “Is a much better place than you’ll ever be in.”
And with that he stepped back. The guard shot a hex toward him, but he ducked gracefully, letting hit the dementor behind him. He continued to back away, his laughter growing louder, and before she knew it, he was at the edge, laughing manically at them.
In a big brava, Malfoy spread his arms, and, in almost slow motion, he leaned back on his heels. Then, in a fast drop he disappeared over the edge, falling through the air. Daphne crawled to the edge and watched him fall, landing with a great splash in the sea foam below. Her eyes were wide, fearful and she panted as she waited to see if he resurfaced. The guard looked shocked, as if he could not believe what had just happened.
“No human could ever survive that fall,” he said, “He’s gone.”
Daphne huffed angrily, turning her face up to the younger man, eyes angry.
“That’s just it, idiot,” she snapped, “He isn’t human.”
Carefully, she turned her face back down to the sea. She didn’t see his head come up, but that didn’t mean anything. He had gotten away.
“Where do you think he’ll go?” the guard asked, just as the alarms began going off. Daphne grinned.
“I know where,” she said with a smile. She knew where he was going. But he’d never find her. “He’s going after her.”