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He Walks in Dreams
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Draco/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
6
Views:
3,796
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female › Draco/Hermione
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
6
Views:
3,796
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I own any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
The Prince Enslaved
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the other original characters and or places in the Potterverse, which was created by the wonderful JK Rowling. I believe that they are owned by Warner Brothers. However, the plot, new characters and or places are mine, mine, mine! And are subject to copyright by ME!
Chapter 3- The Prince Enslaved
‘Why am I doing this? It takes no skill to shoot at fish trapped in a barrel.’ thought the blond young wizard with his wand trained on yet another helpless Muggle as the figure next to him, who excepting his lightly lined completion could have been mistaken for his twin, dispatched with the elderly Muggle man at the end of his wand with cold indifference.
The older wizard growled at the implication of the younger man’s hesitation, weakness. That was the only thing that could explain the slight pause in his doppelganger’s attack, disgusting! Compassion was not to be spent on creatures who were barely human, and only sparingly with other Purebloods and then usually only as a tool of coercion. Were it not for the fact the boy was a mirror image of him in nearly every physical aspect he’d have suspected that his wife had been unfaithful…
The young man watched as his father’s eyes narrowed and the tip of the wand the old man was holding flicked to point square in the middle of his chest. “I’d hate to be disappointed in you, son,” the word son was hissed and dripping with contempt and clearly said that the behavior he witnessed was cause enough to doubt any blood relation. “Severus is not here to do your dirty work this time, or did you think that I wouldn’t hear about that failure?” The younger man backed a pace or two involuntarily at the implied threat. “If you find my irritation frightening the anger of the Dark Lord will direct at you when you report this failure will surely kill you.” The tone seemed to suggest that his father and Voldemort would be well rid of him should he perform below par.
The Muggle saw what he thought would be a prime chance to escape and made a desperate run for the door. Without removing his gaze from his only son the older wizard performed the full-body bind on the fleeing Muggle who dropped to the ground more terrified than he’d ever been before. “Now, do what the Dark Lord orders you to, unless you’d prefer to suffer his wrath.” The posture of the older wizard was a silent challenge to his son.
The younger man swallowed his reservations and stepped over the terrified Muggle; now utterly helpless on the floor and as impassively as possible he spoke the killing curse, “Avada Kedavra!” he cried as a bolt of green light shot from his wand. The Muggle lay placidly on the floor, almost as though he was asleep. The peaceful look on the faces of his victims did little to ease the tribulation that was building in his soul from the day he’d been ordered to kill Dumbledore. How could that old man have known that it would tear him into tiny pieces to take the life of another? He was not someone who was born to kill.
There was nothing that the younger man could have done to avoid what came next; his father grabbed him by the throat and pushed him against the nearest wall. After years of abuse he’d learned not to struggle against his father when his temper was roused. “You will not be weak!” The older man’s grip tightened on the windpipe of his son who gagged and gurgled. He could feel the darkness closing in washing in from the edges of his vision, then nothing.
He was sitting quite alone in the darkness with no notion of where he was and how he’d gotten there. It was unsettling, the stillness, the vast emptiness that was laid out in front of him like eternity its self. He was gripped by a sudden wave of fear and loathing at his own behavior and screamed into the abyss, “Help me, help me! I’m trapped!” The darkness gave him no answer. He had no knowledge of the passage of time…
The wizard stood over the form of his son, he sneered and spat. This was the last thing he needed! Was he asking too much that the boy be more than a hindrance? He was nearly useless as a Death Eater and had e remained at school at least he could have been of some use as a spy. It was fortunate for him that the dark Lord had seriously overestimated the depth of his feelings for his progeny. He kicked the unconscious body at his feet before hefting it and vanishing with a loud crack.
When next the young wizard knew wakefulness he became aware that he was in a soft bed and sunlight streamed through the window and directly into his eyes; he’d had a headache the like of which he’d never had before, the closet explanation would be that his head was a melon being cleaved in two by an axe-man with a strong arm. He groaned and reached for his head. A delicate feminine voice spoke to him, “Darling you’re awake. You gave me quite a scare. I don’t know what I was thinking letting you go haring off to fight when you’re still only a child.”
“I’m not a child Mother,” he said and instantly regretted the childish tone of his comment, not to mention the fact that the act of speaking increased to enormous pressure on the inside of his skull. She nodded and placed a cold washcloth on his brow in a pitiful attempt to sooth him. “How long was I out?”
“A few days. You must have had some battle.”
“Yeah,” he said not wanting to elaborate. He could scarcely believe that father had not told her, it seemed that his favorite pastime was berating him in front of an audience.
The tall blond wizard addressed his fellow Death Eaters about the progress of the task at hand. “We are near to meeting our goal of extinguishing every source of opposition to our Lord.” An excited mummer ran around the room at the pleasant news. “However there are still several members of the Order of the Phoenix who need to be taken care of. The shock at the death of their leader is no longer going to be sufficient enough to take them unawares. Our next move must be swift and devastating enough to cripple them utterly and irrevocably. We do not strike directly, as it is far too dangerous at this point and the Muggle loving fools will be on their guard…”
“What are you suggesting Lucius?” asked one of the crowd.
“I’m suggesting, Bella, that the death of our next target will unbalance the largest number of them.”
“Which would be who?” Bella asked again interrupting him.
“Have you no mind at all? Percy Weasley, of course. He is estranged from his family now and should make for easy prey.” Lucius was very pleased with this scheme and he looked like a cat who’d just been praised for catching a particularly elusive rat. “The strike must be well planned and executed without a single mistake.”
“And just who did you have in mind for this mission, Lucius? May I suggest Draco, surely he’s more than competent to handle it.” Snape who had been quiet until this point smiled evilly, knowing that Draco had proven to be not only a source of embarrassment, but of disappointment to his father as well.
“I know that he is capable, but he is young and far too inexperienced for this…”
“I’ll accompany him.” Lucius wondered why Severus had volunteered, but daren’t question the man who’d finally managed to kill Dumbledore in front of so many others.
“Very well.”
Draco distracted his mother and crept from his room and onto the landing; he knew that his father was hosting an important meeting. He also knew that it was likely that he’d be assigned a new and potentially deadly mission, as he’d not yet proven himself in the eyes of the Dark Lord or very many of his followers. He listened intently. His breath nearly caught in his throat when he heard that his next target was someone that he knew. It was one thing to kill a Muggle and never know what damage it would do to those who loved him, but this was vastly different and thoroughly unsettling. Not that he’d ever liked Percy; he’d always been such a stickler for rules and regulations that I doubt he’d had many friends-there was no way that someone like that could be any fun at all.
Draco heard his mother looking for him and did not want to get caught eavesdropping so he rose and pretended that he’d been to the privy. He slipped back into his bed and closed his eyes, but he knew that he’d not be able to sleep.
Chapter 3- The Prince Enslaved
‘Why am I doing this? It takes no skill to shoot at fish trapped in a barrel.’ thought the blond young wizard with his wand trained on yet another helpless Muggle as the figure next to him, who excepting his lightly lined completion could have been mistaken for his twin, dispatched with the elderly Muggle man at the end of his wand with cold indifference.
The older wizard growled at the implication of the younger man’s hesitation, weakness. That was the only thing that could explain the slight pause in his doppelganger’s attack, disgusting! Compassion was not to be spent on creatures who were barely human, and only sparingly with other Purebloods and then usually only as a tool of coercion. Were it not for the fact the boy was a mirror image of him in nearly every physical aspect he’d have suspected that his wife had been unfaithful…
The young man watched as his father’s eyes narrowed and the tip of the wand the old man was holding flicked to point square in the middle of his chest. “I’d hate to be disappointed in you, son,” the word son was hissed and dripping with contempt and clearly said that the behavior he witnessed was cause enough to doubt any blood relation. “Severus is not here to do your dirty work this time, or did you think that I wouldn’t hear about that failure?” The younger man backed a pace or two involuntarily at the implied threat. “If you find my irritation frightening the anger of the Dark Lord will direct at you when you report this failure will surely kill you.” The tone seemed to suggest that his father and Voldemort would be well rid of him should he perform below par.
The Muggle saw what he thought would be a prime chance to escape and made a desperate run for the door. Without removing his gaze from his only son the older wizard performed the full-body bind on the fleeing Muggle who dropped to the ground more terrified than he’d ever been before. “Now, do what the Dark Lord orders you to, unless you’d prefer to suffer his wrath.” The posture of the older wizard was a silent challenge to his son.
The younger man swallowed his reservations and stepped over the terrified Muggle; now utterly helpless on the floor and as impassively as possible he spoke the killing curse, “Avada Kedavra!” he cried as a bolt of green light shot from his wand. The Muggle lay placidly on the floor, almost as though he was asleep. The peaceful look on the faces of his victims did little to ease the tribulation that was building in his soul from the day he’d been ordered to kill Dumbledore. How could that old man have known that it would tear him into tiny pieces to take the life of another? He was not someone who was born to kill.
There was nothing that the younger man could have done to avoid what came next; his father grabbed him by the throat and pushed him against the nearest wall. After years of abuse he’d learned not to struggle against his father when his temper was roused. “You will not be weak!” The older man’s grip tightened on the windpipe of his son who gagged and gurgled. He could feel the darkness closing in washing in from the edges of his vision, then nothing.
He was sitting quite alone in the darkness with no notion of where he was and how he’d gotten there. It was unsettling, the stillness, the vast emptiness that was laid out in front of him like eternity its self. He was gripped by a sudden wave of fear and loathing at his own behavior and screamed into the abyss, “Help me, help me! I’m trapped!” The darkness gave him no answer. He had no knowledge of the passage of time…
The wizard stood over the form of his son, he sneered and spat. This was the last thing he needed! Was he asking too much that the boy be more than a hindrance? He was nearly useless as a Death Eater and had e remained at school at least he could have been of some use as a spy. It was fortunate for him that the dark Lord had seriously overestimated the depth of his feelings for his progeny. He kicked the unconscious body at his feet before hefting it and vanishing with a loud crack.
When next the young wizard knew wakefulness he became aware that he was in a soft bed and sunlight streamed through the window and directly into his eyes; he’d had a headache the like of which he’d never had before, the closet explanation would be that his head was a melon being cleaved in two by an axe-man with a strong arm. He groaned and reached for his head. A delicate feminine voice spoke to him, “Darling you’re awake. You gave me quite a scare. I don’t know what I was thinking letting you go haring off to fight when you’re still only a child.”
“I’m not a child Mother,” he said and instantly regretted the childish tone of his comment, not to mention the fact that the act of speaking increased to enormous pressure on the inside of his skull. She nodded and placed a cold washcloth on his brow in a pitiful attempt to sooth him. “How long was I out?”
“A few days. You must have had some battle.”
“Yeah,” he said not wanting to elaborate. He could scarcely believe that father had not told her, it seemed that his favorite pastime was berating him in front of an audience.
The tall blond wizard addressed his fellow Death Eaters about the progress of the task at hand. “We are near to meeting our goal of extinguishing every source of opposition to our Lord.” An excited mummer ran around the room at the pleasant news. “However there are still several members of the Order of the Phoenix who need to be taken care of. The shock at the death of their leader is no longer going to be sufficient enough to take them unawares. Our next move must be swift and devastating enough to cripple them utterly and irrevocably. We do not strike directly, as it is far too dangerous at this point and the Muggle loving fools will be on their guard…”
“What are you suggesting Lucius?” asked one of the crowd.
“I’m suggesting, Bella, that the death of our next target will unbalance the largest number of them.”
“Which would be who?” Bella asked again interrupting him.
“Have you no mind at all? Percy Weasley, of course. He is estranged from his family now and should make for easy prey.” Lucius was very pleased with this scheme and he looked like a cat who’d just been praised for catching a particularly elusive rat. “The strike must be well planned and executed without a single mistake.”
“And just who did you have in mind for this mission, Lucius? May I suggest Draco, surely he’s more than competent to handle it.” Snape who had been quiet until this point smiled evilly, knowing that Draco had proven to be not only a source of embarrassment, but of disappointment to his father as well.
“I know that he is capable, but he is young and far too inexperienced for this…”
“I’ll accompany him.” Lucius wondered why Severus had volunteered, but daren’t question the man who’d finally managed to kill Dumbledore in front of so many others.
“Very well.”
Draco distracted his mother and crept from his room and onto the landing; he knew that his father was hosting an important meeting. He also knew that it was likely that he’d be assigned a new and potentially deadly mission, as he’d not yet proven himself in the eyes of the Dark Lord or very many of his followers. He listened intently. His breath nearly caught in his throat when he heard that his next target was someone that he knew. It was one thing to kill a Muggle and never know what damage it would do to those who loved him, but this was vastly different and thoroughly unsettling. Not that he’d ever liked Percy; he’d always been such a stickler for rules and regulations that I doubt he’d had many friends-there was no way that someone like that could be any fun at all.
Draco heard his mother looking for him and did not want to get caught eavesdropping so he rose and pretended that he’d been to the privy. He slipped back into his bed and closed his eyes, but he knew that he’d not be able to sleep.