The eyes of Winter

Chapter 37....Understanding and Mercy

Draco sprinted from the castle, seeming to fly down the front steps. His robe
blew behind him in the harsh wind as his feet pounded the cold ground, moving
swiftly toward the open doors of the stable, huffing bursts of hot air from his mouth.

Wand at his side just in case, his gut was full of dread, and he didn't know why.
Something in the air was making his skin crawl, the same feeling he got when Voldemort
was anywhere around.

He snuck a quick peek inside before entering on the left, Draco saw nothing. Only
Onyx munching on a bale of hay, but he was untied and not in his stall. Winter would
never chance him wondering off alone on the Hogwart's grounds. Draco, being slightly
intimidated by the beast, gingerly reached for the leather halter and turned him towards
his stall. As soon as Onyx turned his massive head and moved, Draco gasped and was
left standing stone still from the scene before him.

Winter was leaning back with a strange expression, eyes open and streaked with
angry tears. She looked a little worse for wear, sitting there shivering, reeking of old
dust and urine. Her eyes were almost vacant but her expression was full of despair.
Her lips were an cold blue color.

"Hi," Draco approached her tentivly, not knowing quite what to say or do. At the sound
of his voice her head whipped to the side to face him. "Are you alright this time?"

"Yeah, this time." Draco of course had no idea she had just seen the Dark Lord once
again. "I thought I told you to stay away."

"I know," he smiled softly, "but when have you ever known a Slytherin to keep his word
completely." She shot him a distastful stare. Draco squatted in front of her, trying to ignore
the smell, and moved her hair away from her clammy forehead. "I saw you from the castle
tonight. I had no idea what was really happening to you, I know now. I'm sorry."

"I don't need your pity!" Winter suddenly wobbled to her feet. "You can't help me, no
one can." She had to steady her shaky legs by leaning against the wood door
of a spare stall. "Why can't anyone figure that out?"

co wco wasn't really sure how to handle this situation. Was she in her right mind?
Winter had never shown the hateful side of her to him before, this was usually
set aside for the under-classmen whoed ted to let their eyes linger on her for
too long. Draco did the only thing he knew how in these situations....argue.
Seemed to him Winter needed a large dose of reality, and he was just the one to give
it to her. He stood to face her, features hard and cold.

"How can anyone figure out what the hell is happening with you when all you
do is hide yourself away and hold on to your precious little secrets?" Draco could feel
the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, as her eyes flashed suddenly to life.
"You have more friends than enemies here, and yet you continue to wallow in
the fact that you are alone."

"That's because I am!" Winter hissed through clenched teeth, "How would you
like searching endlessly through old musty books for any hint, any clue as to who
or what you are? Only because there are no actual PEOPLE alive to tell you."

"Oh cry me a bloody river, Winter!" Draco threw his hands up in frustration. "You
think you're the only one with problems? Look around you for once! We are ALL in
trouble if the war comes to us before we're ready." His gray eyes were hard as he stared
into hers. "You're in a deep as me, as Potter, as Professor Snape, and it's time you stopped
denying that simple fact. People care about you here, and they want to help. If you would
only let them."

"Is it really me they care about, or what may happen to their world if I should leave
them for the Dark Lord's?" Her voice was frighteningly calm.

Draco choked on her words. "How can you say that? After all they have tried to do,
after all *I've* tried to do?"

"Think about it," she spat. "Do you think anyone would've gave a flying fuck
about me if I wasn't a Karhem witch? Just some freak off an american street, thrown into
a cluster-fuck of lies and truth and left alone to figure it out." Winter pulled her hair
from around her face angrily. "No one would of cared who the hell I was, not even
you, and we both know it."

Draco growled in anger, and rushed her, stopping inches from her dirty face.
Winter never flinched, he didn't think she would, but her eyes raged with the inferno
inside. Nose to nose, heat flowing between them.

"Don't ever make assumtions for me, especially if they are wrong!" Draco grabbed
her arms and shook her slightly, backing her into the wall. "Now you listen to me,
Winter VaShawn! I am a Malfoy, born and bred of the purest blood, a name to be feared
and respected by all who know the ways of magic! For centuries the men of my bloodline
have raped, murdered, enslaved, and done things to their women that make the
Marquis DeSade look like a monk."

For once Winter's eyes were almost frightened, but they did not turn away.
Draco had never looked more serious than he did now. "You my lovely one," he ran
a soft touch down her cheek, "You are the first to ever truly have a Malfoy at their complete
mercy." Draco brought her trembling hand up and kissed it, raising his eyes once again.
"You see Mistress, we all have our little secrets."

Winter's voice trembled when she spoke. "Secrets are like shadows, they never
truly leave. Do they?"

Draco softly shook his head no. "Regardless of what you believe, Winter. I don't
pity you. I know you are strong, you don't *need* anything from me. But it's time
you start accepting what I can *give* you. You should know, anything, anything for you.
Just because you have fallen in front of Voldemort does not mean you are broken."
He rolled his eyes, "Look at Potter."

Winter gave a small laugh in spite of the pain. She didn't want to laugh right now, but
somehow it felt almost good. Her body ached, and her head hurt as she debated telling
Malfoy about the summoning spell in blood. Yet another lovely visit with the Dark Lord,
and she had the sinking feeling it wouldn't be the last. How in hades did Professor Snape
hold on like this all these years? Winter could only wonder if he had ever been tortured, judging
by his demeaner the answer was obvious.

"Draco," she began slowly, looking into the steel gray orbs of his eyes. "I know you risk
much to be with me. Your father grows more suspicious by the day, I can feel it. He talks
to Snape about us. I see them, I hear them, echoing in my head sometimes late at
night. He asks many questions, but Professor Snape tries to put him off it."

"But the dreamless sleep draft? You have been taking it, haven't you?" He gave
her a stern gaze.

"Yes," she sighed with total frustration. "You don't understand. They aren't dreams,
they're visions." She spoke slowly making him catch every word by itself. "I'm...awake..
when...it...happens!"

"Advanced divination? Without any form of portal? No crystal ball, tea leaves, nothing like
that?" Draco sounded skeptical, not to mention surprised, and he arched an eyebrow at her.

Winter's eyes went hollow again. "You know more about me than any other I've ever
known. But there are things that lay deep inside of me, somewhere buried in my brain or
god knows where. Some are buried deep for a reason. Somethings I just haven't figured
out yet." She shrugged, "I just don't know, and I guess that's why you don't either."

Draco dropped his hands heavily at his sides, stepping back. "I'll never know either,
because I know you won't let me. I risk everything I have to be with you, from the first time
I saw you, smelled you on the night air I have done everything in my power to make you
mine, to please you in every way. And it's clear to me now all my efforts have been for nothing."

He turned from her, facing the open doors of the stable, looking out into the
cold foggy night air that seperated them from the castle. He could feel Winter's hands
come from behind, gripping tightly on his shoulders. Urgency and fear filling them.

Then only tiny words from her dry lips, "I'm sorry."

Suddenly her hands turned rough and she spun him around to face her fierce gaze.
Violently grabbing his school robes in her hands, bringing him inches from her eyes
that were now storming with an internal fury. Winter had caught the younger Malfoy off
guard and now bore into his mind with her unnatural power, and as he slowly sank to his knees
she raped his mind. Draco could hear her echo somewhere inside, and seemed to float away
from anything he ever thought was real.

He was swimming, swimming somewhere in thy poy pools of her eyes. Drifting
away mentally, not knowing if he was on solid ground or in the air. Draco could hear
her though, loud and painfully clear as the horrid images began to come.

Winter's voice, seeming to come from all sides, spoke to him in a saddened
tone. Almost full of the regret she held for what she was doing.

"There are many things I choose not to share with you my Draco. Only because
I may fear your reaction, or I do not understand them myself. You have shown
me much in our time together, and now I show you what your heart desires.
But remember my love, if you choose to eat at the heart's table, the food is often times
poisoned. This seems my only choice."

Draco felt like screaming, it was like he was drowning in her haunting images. They came
at him violently. Floating heads mumbling words that made no sense, flashes of
pain, people screaming, loud music. He had the strange feeling of having his septum in foreceps,
and a huge hollow needle passing through his tender flesh. Then the cold steel of the barbell,
and his blood. Only their was none, he was not bleeding. Winter's memories were bleeding,
so to speak, she was making him see fragments of her life.

They all were full of pain, physical or mental, it didn't matter. He felt them all. Suffocating
in the rush of images, Draco felt overwelmed. The frantic thoughts of the past beraded
his senses.

*The ceiling, look what I did to the Great Hall!!*

*Trapped, I'm so trapped!*

*It hurts, my blood is boiling!*

For the first time he felt the Dark Lord's hands on him, draining his life blood. Draco
felt his heart begin to rip out when, through Winter's eyes, saw himself in his death-eater
robes. Eyes wet behind the mask, begging to know what to do. He felt Winter too, her
secret wish of being saved. Begging him to rescue her, to stop the pain, but knowing if
Draco even moved, they both would be dead. Hot tears were streaming down his face
into his long tangled hair, matting it to his cheeks.

The vicious screams of terror were everywhere in the haze, whirrling around in his
hollow brain as the images tore his mind apart. He could hear his father talking, green
fire crackling around his head. It was Snape's study. His smooth booming voice, irratated,
was speaking to him.

"For the last time, Lucius! For Merlin's sake, I don't know." Snape was pouring a larger
than usual glass of fire-whiskey.

"Severus," Malfoy Sr.'s voice like cream, "Surely, you would know. After all they are both
in Slytherin house, and you have known my son since the first minutes of his life."

"The Karhem's quarters are near mine, I made sure I could easily keep on eye on any
activity. I'm telling you again, Lucius. I alone know everything that goes on down
here, and there is nothing suspicious about Winter and Draco."

"Oh, so it's Winter now! Getting a little too familier with the Earth witch? I'm
sure Lord Voldemort would love to hear that you two are playing nice. She is lovely,
is she not?"

"You heard the Master, only he is to deal with her. I can only keep a watchful
gaze on the girl, and the only thing I have noticed is her insufferable attitude." Snape
rolled his eyes. " Lucius, your son has only fallen into what almost every red blooded male
has around here." Severus sighed heavily, and downed the last of his fire whiskey. "They are
smitten with her, they vie for her attention just like any other normal young wizard with a pulse
would do. Didn't you just get done saying how lovely she was?" Snape sneered as he twisted
the words of his nearest , but not dearest companion. "You sick bastard, she's only
seventeen." Severus smirked as Lucius's face tightened into a foul scowl.

"I don't care how old she is! She is nothing to me but a threat! I've seen her with Draco,
parading around on the back of my son's broomstick, and sneaking kisses when she
thinks no one can see. I know what I saw, Severus. She just can't wait to get her mud-blood
hands on my son and my fortune, but she never will." Lucius chuckled to himself. "The Dark Lord
will drain her dry before that will ever happen."

Lucius's voice was fading, more memories, more images of grief. Draco saw a body,
curled up sweetly on a bed, but for some reason it was a stomach turning gray. A thin man
with sandy brown hair, older than they were, but not by much. It was quite obvious
he had not taken a breath in many hours, stone stiff, cold and dead.

All Draco could hear were the wails of grief coming from deep inside, and the
crashing splintering sound of glass breaking. Winter had thrown the almost empty bottle
of something that looked like whiskey into the wall. Sending it scattering along the
old tile floor. The small green pills that were close to the bed didn't do much of a job
soaking up the fallen liquor, it just disolved them into oblivion.

The feeling like he was being ripped away hit him again as the e fae faded. Ramdom
thoughts, feelings, and emotion rushed around him, feeling like a thousand pounds on
his shoulders as they raced through his head. He was somewhere in the thick fog of
his mind. Her mind? All reality had ceased to exist for him.

"Draco," her voice called to him once again, "This is the graveyard that resides in me.
Where pain, and emotion all come to die. Forever waiting in the shadows to be forgotten,
some buried alive. Do you wish to know what lies in the shallow graves here?"

"NO," Draco bellowed into the night air, "Stop this Winter, I'll go mad!"

Winter dropped her hands from him, knowing now she had taken it too far
already. Draco crumpled to the concrete stable floor, heaving for air. Retching,
and dry heaving at her feet.

"Why," Draco sputtered out between heaves, "Why the bloody hell did you
do that?"

Winter's looked down on him with her vacant eyes. "My words would never be
enough for you to understand, Draco. I've shown you the things I can not speak of,
even to you. I'm sure now you understand why I have, until now, kept them in silence."

Draco nodded, still angry but too groggy to act upon it. He shook his foggy head.
He couldn't half blame Winter for what she had done. How was she suppose to come to
him with news of visions of his father plotting against the person he loves most?

Draco would of liked to think he would've believed her, but his father? If Lucius had truly
seen them together at the Quidditch match, then he would have to know about the feelings
they shared. Yet he continued to plot against his own son! All from the man who took the
Malfoy name to the edge of sanity, all for lust, money, and power.

And in Draco's mind their was only one person to blame for his misery. One man
that had corrupted decades of powerful, talented witches and wizards. Including
his father. He had already stolen part of his life, by taking his father from his childhood
days. Now he wanted more, his servitude and his love.


'Voldemort,' he thought hatefully, 'The bastard will never get a chance.'


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