Chapter 1 : prologue
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Does your Blood Boil?
Key in code for hack //htmlcodereg now…
!!This is a dream sequence….!!
!!!!!!!!!!! This indicates a scene change…
DracoxHermione Everyone in the whole shipping crew feeds off this couple… Oh, hi, I LURVE THE PEOPLE AT THE LEATHER LIBRARIES!
Decipher preface input…
" Mother! I feel like a bloody Mudblood!"
Narcissa Malfoy snorted, adjusting the black tuxedo on her son's shoulders, forcing him an almost Machiavellian smirk.
" You're going to meet some girls, Draco... As you know, with your Veela Inheritance coming into play, you need to find your Mate soon... Oh, and don't whisper a word of this to your Father; he already is suspicious.”
It was Draco's turn to snort as he glanced down at his way-too-formal clothing. Basically, he looked as if he was attending a wedding, with his long platinum hair framing his pale pointy face, his light silver eyes reflecting his very first emotion: bemusement. He did not exactly favour the black slacks and the 'manly' tuxedo his mum had chosen him. Overall, he felt like a spruced-up penguin.
" Mother, I change my mind... Is it all right if I insult the woman for calling me 'pigeon hold'?" he attentively questioned his mother, who was currently fixing his tie.
" Ah, fine," she replied as she choked back a loud chuckle. Her son always seemed to amuse her.
" Good, because I fancy a good few will, even on friendly terms," he drawled coolly as his reflection winked at him. Damn these magiked mirrors, he thought to himself with an invisible shudder.
Do not trip, now, Draco…
Draco mentally cursed himself as his foot nearly closed on his mother’s long green dress robes, clenching his fists repeatedly, trying to somehow evaporate the forming sweat.
Smile at the pretty brunettes…
Oh, shut up, the subconscious of Draco stated.
Draco forced a thin smirk, [which he hoped wasn’t that appealing] swallowing the hot vomit that claimed his equally thermal throat. These women meant nothing to him, but he noticed that every one was a brunette, and all had their thieving eyes set upon him. Draco forced away the questioning voice that squeaked, [in an odd voice that did the voice-over for Elk in the dothack video game series] um, did I miss something here? DO MY ROBES LOOK MUGGLE-ISH TO YOU?!! I BET THEY BLOODY ARE!!!!!!!!! And he felt an odd grin cross its unwanted way into his face at the thought.
“ You’re trying too hard at this, Draco,” his mother mouthed from his left, noticing the boy’s uncharacteristic grin.
Face the bloody facts; you are screwed!
“ Yeah, and I have the most optimistic ponders,” Draco mumbled back, finally ripping the idiotic grin from his pale face.
A Muggle made my robes… Hell, these things are not probably robes… WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING HERE?!!
Draco was undoubtedly thankful when his mother finally sat her arse down, because then, he could bloody sit next to her, then pretend he had the vomits.
“ Mother, may I be excused?”
Narcissa’s face revealed her momentary shock before lightening up. “ You found her already, then?”
Draco did not possess enough brain cells to hide the vague expression he shot back his mother, which was companioned by the mere arch of a pale eyebrow. “ May I be excused?” he repeated icily, deciding that this would be the only way he would escape the room.
“ Oh, fine.”
He was gazing into a deep pool of a black nothingness, an icy hand clenching his throat, a pressure shoving him to a helpless position. He trained his ears to listen to feminine shaky breaths, unable to recognise anything around him.
“ Die Malfoy,” from above her voice murmured.
Abruptly, the world regained colour, as if he had been released from a prison cell, and he could barely hear his fading shallow breaths as the girl pressed her jagged dagger into his neck.
Draco found his throat choking, his gaze set upon the lush green grass, his left hand completely numb, barely realising his right hand was around the girl’s waist.
His voice was one of an icy beast as he wrenched her left hand from his neck, currently wrenching the dagger from her surprisingly weak grip.
“ You… you tried to bloody rape me, why don’t you explain?” She released the dagger, rolling off Draco with a flourish, and he caught the scent of lemons throughout the girl’s frizzy mane.
“ Rape…” He repeated stupidly, his mind blank.
His cheek stung, his gaze shifting to the girl, his light eyes widening in realisation and shock. His left hand was tangled throughout the girl’s black bushy curls, his right hand wrenched around her wrist, preventing her from slapping him again.
Sun, sun, yes, the sun…
“ Thank you, whomever created the sun,” Draco heard himself mutter between his pillows. Since he was a light sleeper, Draco had always learnt to sleep with his head surrounded by a fortress of pillows. Fluffy pillows…
“ Don’t drift off,” Draco muttered, ripping the pillow sanctum away from his face to force himself awake.
One of those weird dream sequences…?
“ Draco, are you ready? Your father and I are worried!”
“ Freezing cauldrons, I have the sudden urge to slap myself,” a girl’s voice muttered from a darkened corner of his bedroom.
“ Pansy, you wandered into the wrong room. My brother’s room is on the fifth floor, the sixteenth on the right,” Draco snapped, rubbing his pulsing temples to relieve an enormous migraine.
“ Oh… Sorry. There are so many floors here! Which one am I wandering in, by the way?” she did not bother to hide the disappointment and anger, as Draco had already seen her sulking before.
“ 2nd. Bugger off, I have to dress,” he drawled coolly, currently running his pale left hand through his pale tousled locks, trying to detangle the surprisingly messy mass.
Pansy barely had time to slip from his glare before his mum was shaking him, even as he vaguely comprehended her shouts.
“ Wake up!”
Draco furrowed his brows, his eyes trained on a random blank wall, frowning deeply in thought.
“ This is a dream, isn’t it?”
She chuckled softly, shaking her head in reply, a flurry of dark bushy curls flying with the action.
“ It’s your subconscious telling you the oddest things,” she replied coolly as he shifted himself to a sitting position.
“ Just who the hell do you think you are?” Draco spat as the girl traced the silver serpent pattern across his pillow.
“ Your Mate.”
Draco surprisingly felt… nothing. Nothing that he would have expected, that was. He was not angry, upset, or even buggered. He was merely bemused.
“ Oh, is that the truth? What’s your name? What’s your identity? Are you Pure, or are you Filth?”
“ You’re hoping to scare me off.” She chuckled at the thought, as if it was somehow ludicrous.
“ Are you filthy?” he repeated sternly as she gazed off into space, her dark eyes expressionless.
“ I’m of Muggle blood, yet I’m better at you in every subject at our school, our sanctuary, our Hogwarts…”
“ Oh, good, you’re conscious…”
“ Mother, I will slap you,” he muttered angrily.
“ You were already dreaming of her?” She smiled approvingly, obviously unknowing of the girl in his dreams.
“ Mother, would you tell father that I can’t go through with the Death Eater training?”
The look on her face surprised him, because he thought she would be shocked, or just be appalled. His mother was practically beaming at him.
“ She’s a Muggleborn?”
Draco propped himself with his elbows, surprised at his mother’s knack at discovering supposedly well-hidden secrets. “Do you want her to be?”
In the direction of staying unceasing…
Unlock the dedications and |_u|2/3...
Jamie is grateful for you reading her work, since she has just abruptly matured and is now 13...
Veelas are very deceitful, in which you will figure and decipher very shortly, I can assure you…
Mudblood may just be a pet name from now until December. ^___^;
|_337 | |_u|2/3 `/|_|0 4|_l!
Oh, and Jamie must remind you that she does not own these characters, and the simple fact that she does not have a brain extent to comprehend Death Eater Purebloods/Veela children such as Draco Malfoy… She also does not own the dark haired Hermione Granger.
Does your hair colour darken with age? Well, Hermione and I share that attribute… GO BAD GUYS AND GOODIES!!
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