Gone

Disclaimer: Don't own them; title for chapter 1 is credited to Ray Bradbury's book.
Pairing: Primarily H/D, R/Hr, S/D
LiveJournal addy: http://www.livejournal.com/userinfo.bml?user=nightshade24
Rating: NC-17 overall, for adult situations, violence and sexual situtations between TWO MALES. If this offends you then please do not read. Flamers will be subjected to shock therapy and forced to read tons and tons of slash. You have been warned.

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CHAPTER 1--Something Wicked This Way Comes

If there was one thing Draco Malfoy hated with a passion, it was weakness. And though he prided himself on being strong and opinionated, he forced himself to cry out and tremble convincingly before his father. His pale cheek was rapidly reddening from the force of Lucius Malfoy's hard blow, and Draco grimaced inwardly. *Bastard*.

"You will never question me when I tell you to do something, Draco. Are we clear?" Lucius glared at his only son with such loathing and disdain that one might have wondered why he and his wife, Narcissa, had ever bothered reproducing. "The Dark Lord is getting impatient, Dragon. He wants Potter's blood now! It is the only way that he can fully restore his lost strength."

Draco opened his mouth to tell his father just what he thought Voldemort could do with his impatience, when he snapped it shut just as quickly. It wouldn't do to get sent to the dungeons--not when his back wasn't completely healed from the last time he displeased his father. "Yes, sir."

"You will succeed this year, Dragon. There will be no more room for mistakes. If you fail to complete your task this year, you will be sorry."

Draco knew what his father's cleverly concealed words were really saying.

If he didn't succeed this school year, he would be killed.

"Yes, sir. I will not fail."

"Good. You are dismissed. I leave for business in the morning, so I won't see you. But I will be contacting you at school, so be prepared."

"Yes, sir."

Draco turned abruptly and made his way to the door of his father's study. As he was about to step out, his father called him back.

"Do not disappoint me again, Dragon."

"No, father." Draco said mockingly. *You can go to hell*

The seventeen year old Slytherin made his way upstairs to finish packing his school trunk. He was leaving early the following morning and he wanted to have everything ready. As he was halfway up the stairs, he heard his mother call his name softly. Sighing, he turned around to face her.

Narcissa Malfoy was an achingly beautiful woman with honey blonder hair and bright blue eyes. She was considered to be a cold and unfeeling woman, but that was part of her façade as Lucius's wife. She gathered up the hem of her robes to prevent tripping, and made her way up the steps to her only son. When she neared him, she let her icy gaze soften a bit. Despite all outward appearances, Narcissa did love her son, but experience taught her never to show it.

"Are you finished packing dear?"

"Not yet, mother. I was just about to head upstairs." Draco replied, trying not to let his irritation show. As far as he was concerned, his mother was just another person who had never been there for him. She was just another pawn in his father's sick game with Voldemort.

"Your cheek." she murmured and reached out a hand to touch his bruised skin, but Draco flinched away.

"Yeah, a present from dear old dad." Draco sneered. "Can I go now?"

"Why do you speak to me in such tones, Draco? I am your mother!"

He remained silent for a moment. "No you're not. You never have been and you can't start now, so don't pretend that you care." With that, he swept up the stairs without seeing the sad look on his mother's face. The blonde teen continued into his suite of rooms and slammed the door angrily. He surveyed his reflection in his mirror and clenched his fists.

The past couple of years had been extra good to Draco. He had grown several inches and had become toned from hours and hours of Quidditch practice. His silver blonde hair was chin length and fell around his face, softening his aristocratic features. He took after his mother mostly and was considered pretty by most. If one didn't know the teen they would have made the mistake of saying that Draco Malfoy was almost effeminate.

But they would have been wrong.

Draco might have been pretty, but he was still the same insufferable, annoying bastard he had always been. And as the years went by, and Draco got older, "dangerous' could be added to the list. No one fucked with the younger Malfoy and hoped to live. No one.

Especially Harry fucking Potter.

It was because of Harry, and Draco's cursed inability to get the best of the annoying Gryffindor, that caused him to be the brunt of his father's wrath. But as he angrily stared at his reflection, Draco came to a decision.

This year he would not fail. This year he would get his father and Voldemort off his back. Harry Potter would die--and by the hands of Draco Malfoy.

And as he fingered his bruised cheek gently, he also vowed that his father would pay for what he did to him.