Falling into Destiny

Falling into Destiny 

Chapter Three

There was a familiar feeling to the neoclassical courtyard you found yourself in. Though you could never put it to any of your exact memories, the feeling still lingered. The familiarity was sprinkled over the four columns of the corners, the artwork etched into each. It was spread over the tapestries draped about like a fine perfume. Rich and sweet, cloyingly so. It dug somewhere deep in your gut as you stepped through the room, feet touching down on artfully placed rocks in the pool at the center of the room. You looked up to see the full moon shining down into water like silver beams; beams which had too much presence, too much opacity, to be real.



You continued down into a hallway. The darkness split from the light streaming in from the windows. Somehow you didn't even need that. You knew this place, though you had never been to it. Your feet moved through some of the rooms as though you had come back to a childhood home. You were like a spectator viewing a memory. The only problem was that this wasn't it wasn't your memory. 



A hand glided over the light, breezy material you found yourself wearing. Pale skin against smoky gray. Instinctively you took an inhale of breath in surprise as heat surged through you. An intoxicating, inviting heat. Your head tilted to the side as the hand slowly pulled you back, gripping at the fabric around your stomach. You felt a cold wind as it brushed past, sending your body into a shivery. 



"It's been a while," the voice from the male behind you was just like everything else in this world - unrealistically refined and clear. 



You gripped your hand at your side, trying to regain some control. It wasn't an easy thing to do; the man behind you was better at this game in every way. He was stronger and had far more control than you ever had before. His pull was greater than yours and it was so easy to be overwhelmed by it. But the thought of where the pull would lead was still, thankfully, enough to give you reservations. 



"I need help," you said as you straightened your head. 



You felt his amusement more than you heard or saw it. His hand felt like fire on your skin even through the fabric as it spread out. You felt it slipping further down until you caught him, stopping his exploration. 



"I can see that."



Taking in a breath out of sheer habit, you used your grip on his hand to pull yourself free of his grasp. Decisive strides took you out to a balcony which overlooked a magnificently overgrown garden. Whatever this place was it really did feel like it was out of a dream. Ironic as it was considering you were, in a way, actually dreaming. 



"You're so tense," the masculine voice said.



You turned around to see him, hands still gripping the railing. He looked how he always did - like the man was too good to exist. It wasn't just the body, though that would have made any mortal man appealing. There was a presence to him that made ignoring him impossible. Even you had a hard time looking away from his quite literally hypnotic blue gaze and that was with all the practice you had. Once you'd broken eye contact, his eyes trailed up and down your body. You felt quite naked despite wearing enough fabric to cover a bed. 



"And hungry I see," the words were practically covered with promise, though you recognized that he had at least tried not to make them sound dirty, as he stepped forward. 



"I didn't come for that."



"You never do," he replied casually as he took a spot beside you.



You shifted back around so you could lean on the railing. There was a moment of silence between the two of you as you tried to formulate exactly what you'd come to ask him. It was hard to think - harder to remember. This wasn't a dream of your own making so much as one of his and so it was hard to remember anything that didn't relate to the moment because that was how he operated. But you struggled through the haze to pull back the scraps of thoughts that you had before trying to get his attention. Idly, as you traced a small crack in the white stone, you wondered why he couldn't let you send him an owl like any other normal parent. You knew why of course but there was the gut feeling of how unfair it was that you couldn't just talk to him like a normal person. 



"How's your mother?"



His words hit home just how out of touch he was. You knew that for him time was almost irrelevant. Oh, he knew there were dates. He just didn't care to pay attention to them. Some days were longer for him, others flew by and took a few weeks or years with them. 



"She's still in Azkaban," you answered. 



Your brows drew together, trying in vain to stop the onslaught of emotional memories. In a place such as this, memories were tricky things. Sometimes, like a moment ago, they were kept away by a haze. Othertimes they were at the forefront of every thought. They played behind the eyelids or took shape into the dream, shaping it. Like right now, instead of the white stone the railing you gripped turned gray. Multiple stones made up the texture and the wind turned much colder. There was a dampness to the thick air that you couldn't shake and the sound of crying that wouldn't leave you alone. 



There was a warm hand pulling you back from the darkness of the memory. You looked up into your father's blue eyes, his blond hair swept back for the moment. He commanded your attention as he held your hands, pulling you away from what was no doubt about to be the start of a nightmare. 



"You are not there," he stated. 



You shook your head and took your bearing. He was right; you weren't back in Azkaban with your mother. Your mind was currently with him and your body was safely tucked away. Or at least what you hoped was safely tucked away. 



"No, I'm not."



"Where are you?" he asked curiously as he brushed some of your own blond hair back off your shoulder. 



"Hogwarts," was your answer.



"That school of yours," he acknowledged. "You know that I can teach you everything you need to know."



His hand was soothing against your cheek. If you weren't careful you'd have thought he was sincerely just trying to be affectionate. But you knew better; you could sense his desire almost as well as you were sure he could sense your own. And that very thought, that there was such desire to be had, brought you back into a semblance of control. That was one line you were not willing to cross. 



"Your lessons have a price attached, so I'd much rather not. Thank you very much."



He pulled his hand back and you were thankful for that. "All lessons have a price. I can feel the toll that all this magic usage is taking on you. You're barely being able to keep up and the more you use, the worse it's going to get."



"I know," you responded in a clipped, bitter tone. 



"So then why do you persist with it Dorian?"



"Because I want to," was the easiest answer you could give; at least the easiest one that he would understand. 



The whole thing with your father was that he understood only desire. It was what he was good at and you suspected that was all he had ever really known. When he wanted something, he took steps to get it. When he wanted someone...well, he pretty much took them too. Although an incubus of his level never actually took anyone against their will so much as convinced people to give in to what they wanted. 



"You should at least take a few lovers, make it easier on yourself. Like that one boy...Draco isn't it?"



You felt yourself still at his suggestion. Making a lover out of anyone would be complicated. Not only would they eventually find out what you were but it also meant that you'd have to have sex. That wasn't something you were ready for. Sure you got close to it in dreams to gather energy from people, extremely close, but it seemed to be different if you followed through with it on the physical plane. You had a feeling that once you did that then it would be harder to deny your nature, harder to deny the hunger whenever it rose up. There would be no turning back at that point. Your father had confirmed that a few few years back too. So to take any lover would be dangerous...to take Draco as one even more so. 



"He's fifteen," you tried to reason with the man beside you.



"Is that your paper shield?" 



"Someone's age shouldn't be a paper shield," you tossed back at him.



Draco was an accomplished fifteen year old, you'd give him that. He was already learning how to do nonverbal spells even though those wouldn't come into the curriculum for him for another year. He was doing spells much more advanced than the O.W.Ls would call for. And there was the fact that he was growing into his adult face now. The sharp nose of his father and angular jaw were evident and you could see the man he was going to be through them. At least the man he was physically going to be. He had an unconventional beauty to him but most days you just wished you could style his hair because he kept it in such a way that it didn't help his features at all. But he was only fifteen so you had tried to keep your mind away from his features, especially the ones you couldn't see. 



Not that, that particular mindset helped you with Blaise Zabini.



"Zabini," you whispered in realization. 



"Is he the lover you're taking?" You father asked curiously.



"What? No..." you said in a bit of confusion before remembering. "I just..."



"If you want to make him your lover than do it," he said as he brushed his hand on your upper arm, fingers lingering just a little too long. 



"I don't want him to be, that's the problem. I think I took too much energy from him and now he's acting all strange."



"He's under your thrall."



"My thrall?" You questioned in an unsure tone. "What is that? When will it stop?"



He tilted his head and you had the sudden impression that he was mildly disappointed in you. The disappointment stung, even though you really didn't want to admit to that. Your jaw tighten and you willed yourself to stay still even as he angled his body closer to yours. 



"I forget there is so much you don't know."



"Then tell me," you said in an imploring tone.



"When you're ready," he said. 



"Now," you tried again. 



He just shook his head with that sympathetic smile of his. You felt his hand through your hair and this time you didn't pull back. This one actually felt paternal and caring. it was those moments that gave you whiplash. 



"Not until you are ready little one. But since you've stumbled into this, I suppose you should know what you're dealing with."



Okay, you had learned by now that was probably the best you were going to get. So you nodded against his hand and waited for him to continue. He would when he was ready. 



"A thrall is someone who has had their will bent. i believe your wizarding world has a spell that can do that, correct?"



"It's a curse, but yes," you answered his question. 



"You feed from someone, you start to bend their will. When you feed for long enough and their will turns to you. It doesn't become yours because you will never be able to control them; not exactly. But you become their priority. Everything they can do to please you, they will."



"So...he'll leave me alone if I want him to?"



He shook his head, "You're not listening."



"I am," you insisted, "you're just being cryptic."



"I am not," he insisted right back at you. 



"You are. Can't you just tell me what's happening?"



"What's happening, dear one, is that you have enthralled a person. He will do whatever he thinks is in your best interest. Sometimes that's what you say, sometimes it will be what he thinks you need regardless of what you say. I assume you didn't complete the process?"



You didn't need to be told what he meant by that. Completing the process was, undoubtedly, having sex with someone. And so you shook your head.



"Then it will fade."



"And if I complete it?"



His smile was slow and warm as his hand curled in your hair. The parental feeling faded but before you could move back away from him, his hand was already curled around your cheek. You felt his lips brush against your cheek ever so softly but what you weren't expecting was this rush of energy. There was a thrill to it; different than what you had ever felt before. The energy you got from humans, even from wizards, was like fire. Warm and soothing, enticing really. But this felt like a rush through your cheek, more like a static shock of pleasure. 



You drew back in shock but he looked as though nothing had happened. 



"Then he will be enthralled until he dies."



"So how do I--"



You never got to finish the question as the world finally faded into pure white. 



You sat up gasping in pain, your vision inconsistent. Your body felt like ants were crawling all over your skin and the blanket over your legs felt constricting. That wasn't the confusing part, although it was very confusing. The confusing part was the fact that you were in the hospital wing with a very irritated looking teacher standing beside you. 



Snape looked as though you had just dragged him away from the most important thing he would ever do. Of course, even on the best day Snape was an disagreeable person but right now it was worse. In his hand you saw a vial of silver liquid; or at least what was left of it. 



"Oh, good, you're awake," Madam Pomphrey said from the other side of you. 



You looked to her. Only for a moment because Snape was ultimately more interesting. Not to mention much more threatening than the school nurse. Though she wouldn't be a witch you'd want to cross either. 



"What happened?"



"Miss Granger found you in the library."



Oh...that's right. You'd been studying in the restricted section to try and figure out what had happened to Blaise Zabini. That was until you decided to try and get answers straight from the only reliable source you knew of. While your father might not be the most straight forward person he did have the answers you needed and he never lied to you. If anything sometimes his truths were too uncomfortably close to the truth. 



"I'm sorry I fell asleep in the library professor," you mumbled quietly as you tugged your robe up over your shoulder. 



"Hm, if you think you were brought here you are mistaken," Snape replied in a snide tone. 



You got up slowly much to the concern of Madam Pomphrey. "No, don't get up dear. You should rest."



You had a sickly feeling as to why she thought you needed rest. No doubt when Hermione Granger had found you, she had thought you dead. Or at least near death. Your body temperature always dropped to room temperature when you were 'asleep'. That in itself would make you feel cold as ice to a warm blooded witch such as herself. On top of that your heart rate would have slowed down to the point that it would have been hard to detect even for muggle doctors as would have your breathing. Then there would have been the fact that there would have been no response or eye movement from you, not when you were down in that deep. It was a very vulnerable state but you had thought that you would have been safe and undiscovered in the restricted section. Apparently you were wrong. And for Hermione to have found you of all people...



"I feel fine," you said in a quiet voice. 



In fact, you felt a little better than you had when you went to talk to your father. Not only did you get some useful information from him but you didn't feel a lack of energy like you normally did. It probably had something to do with that kiss. Instinctively your hand went up to your cheek even though your stomach curled a little at the thought of what had happened. As you stood up though you realized that you needed to play to what had happened. No normal person should have been able to get up after a near death experience and feel better for it. Which was exactly why you pretended to still be weak and disorientated despite the fact that you were far from it. 



"What was in the potion?" you asked and just barely remembered to add, "sir."



"None of your concern." 



Well wasn't that helpful. Fine, if he wanted to keep his secrets that was alright by you. You checked your sleeve pocket to make sure that your wand was still there. Sure enough it was. Your bag, you suspected, had already been delivered back to your dorm. 



"Am I free to go?"



Snape nodded sharply but there was a cross look that came over the head nurse's face that you didn't like the look of. What followed next just proved you right. 



"Miss Black, I'm afraid you just had a near death experience. I can not, in good conscious, let you out of the hospital wing without knowing what caused it to happen. Not only that but we must inform your guardians that you are awake--"



"Awake?" you interrupted her. "You told them I passed out?"



Oh this was going to bite you in the ass, you just knew it. 



She nodded sharply. "Of course. It's my duty to inform your guardians if I think your life was in danger. And I assure you, Miss Black, that it was. If it wasn't for Professor Snape and his potion you could very well be dead."



You highly doubted that. But you were very curious as to what that silver potion was. Especially since he, the potion master and head of your house, didn't want to tell you what it was to begin with. That made you all the more suspicious. 



"Fine. But...do I have to stay for long?"



She gave you another look and you realized there was no way you were going to get out of this wing until she felt satisfied with your health. Which means that you were going to have to spend a lot of energy trying to play nice and normal. Great.