Pure
folder
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
4
Views:
26,523
Reviews:
42
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
4
Views:
26,523
Reviews:
42
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Prologue: The Sealing
Warning for underage sex and incest. This story will depict Draco Malfoy having sex with both Lucius and Narcissa, as well as Marcus Flint, starting from when Draco is 11. If this offends you, please stop reading now.
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JK Rowling and various corporations. I'm just borrowing some Malfoys.
Title: Pure
Author: Gertrude Flint
Rating: NC-17 overall
Summary: The erotic education of Draco Malfoy, pure-blood.
Pairings: LM/DM, NM/DM, LM/NM, MF/DM
Warnings: Incest, chan.
Prologue: The Sealing
Almost time to go. The train leaves platform nine and three-quarters at eleven. All his things are packed and ready, and only one task remains: sealing his room.
The three of them walk up the stairs together and stop on the threshold.
"Go on, darling," says Mother. "Take a last look."
At Father's nod, Draco walks into the bedroom of his childhood for the final time.
He knows this, he has always known it -- yet still it's hard to imagine. Only a couple of hours have passed since he rose from this narrow, green-canopied bed, but now it is neatly made, spotless, as if he'd never slept there. Draco reminds himself that he will never sleep there again. When he goes to bed this evening he'll be far away at Hogwarts, a Slytherin at last (he knows it, he knows!) -- and before that, there will be the Hogwarts Express, and before that, his first kisses -- At this thought his stomach does its usual flutter, and involuntarily he glances over his shoulder.
Father is watching him from the doorway, unsmiling.
The curtains are drawn; the room is dim, shadowy, silent. Draco walks around it slowly, touching a bedpost in farewell, brushing the table with his fingertips, opening the wardrobe for a moment to see some of his clothes still hanging there -- robes he's outgrown. His good robes have been packed and moved already, along with other things he's been permitted to take: his chess set, some books that aren't too babyish, the two best broomsticks. His first toy broom is being left behind, here in the corner; he touches that too.
It's still hard to believe. His toys are all arranged on shelves along one side of the room -- but he stares at the empty shelves on the opposite side, trying to picture them full. One day, he knows, they'll hold the favorite possessions of his adult life. One day, years and years from now, when this room is opened again and Draco's ashes are carried into it by his son...
But no -- that's too much to imagine, this day of all days, the day his childhood ends. Draco can't quite picture death happening to him, not even here in his own tomb-room.
This is simply how things are, for a wizard of his class, a Malfoy, one of the few pure-bloods who are also pure-born and who proudly keep the old traditions: the room of his childhood is sealed the day he starts at Hogwarts, and from now on when he is at the Manor he will share his parents' bed, honoring them and learning from them, until he takes a bride and gets a son of his own.
"Come, Draco," says Father. "It's time."
Suddenly nervous, Draco reaches out and grabs the first thing he touches on the shelf -- it's a wooden owl, small enough to fit into his palm. He pockets it. Then, straightening his shoulders, he walks out of that room for the last time in his life.
Mother puts an arm around him and draws him to her side; he presses close, gratefully, into pale blue satin and the scent of jasmine.
Father pulls the door closed and draws his wand. "Let this room be sealed," he declares. "Let childhood end for Draco Malfoy, my pure-born son, and let his manhood begin!" Then he casts the spell.
When the light from his wand fades, the heavy oak door shows no trace of handle, lock, or gap; it is sealed, seamless, identical with the door of Father's own tomb-room. The doors of Draco's grandfather, great-grandfather, and other Malfoys stand open. Their rooms are silent, solemn places, with the relics of their infancy and maturity arranged on the shelves, and their ashes resting in great carved urns.
"Come," says Father again. "The sealing is done." He smiles.
Draco is so excited he can barely breathe, yet for some reason there's the prickle of tears in his eyes as well. He blinks them back. It's not a day for crying.
***************
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JK Rowling and various corporations. I'm just borrowing some Malfoys.
Title: Pure
Author: Gertrude Flint
Rating: NC-17 overall
Summary: The erotic education of Draco Malfoy, pure-blood.
Pairings: LM/DM, NM/DM, LM/NM, MF/DM
Warnings: Incest, chan.
Prologue: The Sealing
Almost time to go. The train leaves platform nine and three-quarters at eleven. All his things are packed and ready, and only one task remains: sealing his room.
The three of them walk up the stairs together and stop on the threshold.
"Go on, darling," says Mother. "Take a last look."
At Father's nod, Draco walks into the bedroom of his childhood for the final time.
He knows this, he has always known it -- yet still it's hard to imagine. Only a couple of hours have passed since he rose from this narrow, green-canopied bed, but now it is neatly made, spotless, as if he'd never slept there. Draco reminds himself that he will never sleep there again. When he goes to bed this evening he'll be far away at Hogwarts, a Slytherin at last (he knows it, he knows!) -- and before that, there will be the Hogwarts Express, and before that, his first kisses -- At this thought his stomach does its usual flutter, and involuntarily he glances over his shoulder.
Father is watching him from the doorway, unsmiling.
The curtains are drawn; the room is dim, shadowy, silent. Draco walks around it slowly, touching a bedpost in farewell, brushing the table with his fingertips, opening the wardrobe for a moment to see some of his clothes still hanging there -- robes he's outgrown. His good robes have been packed and moved already, along with other things he's been permitted to take: his chess set, some books that aren't too babyish, the two best broomsticks. His first toy broom is being left behind, here in the corner; he touches that too.
It's still hard to believe. His toys are all arranged on shelves along one side of the room -- but he stares at the empty shelves on the opposite side, trying to picture them full. One day, he knows, they'll hold the favorite possessions of his adult life. One day, years and years from now, when this room is opened again and Draco's ashes are carried into it by his son...
But no -- that's too much to imagine, this day of all days, the day his childhood ends. Draco can't quite picture death happening to him, not even here in his own tomb-room.
This is simply how things are, for a wizard of his class, a Malfoy, one of the few pure-bloods who are also pure-born and who proudly keep the old traditions: the room of his childhood is sealed the day he starts at Hogwarts, and from now on when he is at the Manor he will share his parents' bed, honoring them and learning from them, until he takes a bride and gets a son of his own.
"Come, Draco," says Father. "It's time."
Suddenly nervous, Draco reaches out and grabs the first thing he touches on the shelf -- it's a wooden owl, small enough to fit into his palm. He pockets it. Then, straightening his shoulders, he walks out of that room for the last time in his life.
Mother puts an arm around him and draws him to her side; he presses close, gratefully, into pale blue satin and the scent of jasmine.
Father pulls the door closed and draws his wand. "Let this room be sealed," he declares. "Let childhood end for Draco Malfoy, my pure-born son, and let his manhood begin!" Then he casts the spell.
When the light from his wand fades, the heavy oak door shows no trace of handle, lock, or gap; it is sealed, seamless, identical with the door of Father's own tomb-room. The doors of Draco's grandfather, great-grandfather, and other Malfoys stand open. Their rooms are silent, solemn places, with the relics of their infancy and maturity arranged on the shelves, and their ashes resting in great carved urns.
"Come," says Father again. "The sealing is done." He smiles.
Draco is so excited he can barely breathe, yet for some reason there's the prickle of tears in his eyes as well. He blinks them back. It's not a day for crying.
***************