100 Moments
folder
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
100
Views:
11,648
Reviews:
52
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
100
Views:
11,648
Reviews:
52
Recommended:
0
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.
Slave
Title: Slave
Author: ianthe_waiting
Rating: T
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter books and their characters are the property of JK Rowling. This is a work of fan-fiction. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made from this story. I am just borrowing the puppets, but this is my stage.
Genre: Drabble
Warnings: None
Summary: #91 – Slave. If she had to make him her slave, she would.
Word Count: 976 words.
Author's Notes: Drabble: a slice of fic in less than 1500 words. A fragment of the idea I have for my next DM/HG writing project.
Prompt 91 – Slave
There was something slightly familiar about all of this, she thought.
“Don’t go, don’t leave me here alone.”
He was pleading with her the best way Draco Malfoy knew how, with a haughty smirk and flashing silver eyes.
Hermione Granger was trying not to think too much about her surroundings, standing on the tip of a high pinnacle of winding stone steps. It was a ruin of a castle, reminiscent of Hogwarts, but not quite. She had climbed the stairs to reach him, the infamous Ferret Prince, the ruler of the land of Malfoy.
It was Malfoy’s trapped mind, in truth, Malfoy unable to move beyond his brain, his subconscious. Hermione found it to be a twisted Malfoy version of Wonderland.
Atop the highest point in the land of Malfoy, Hermione tried to keep her balance, the drop from the last broken step so high that there were clouds obscuring the ground below. However, it was where she found him, the Ferret Prince, sitting on an elaborate throne on a cloud across a wide breach between stone and cloud.
“Stay with me.”
Hermione exhaled, unaware she had been holding her breath for so long.
The Ferret Prince, an apt name, she thought, was dressed in a costume worthy of a masque, his long silver tresses falling about his sharp face in shining strands and tiny braids with bones and feather woven within the hair. He was devilishly handsome with a white fur lined cloak over his wide shoulders; ruffled shirt, tight breeches, and albino dragon hide boots with wickedly sharp silver spikes on the toes. On his belt, he carried a long, thin sword with an emerald embedded in the pommel.
“I’ll give you anything you desire,” he said, leaning forward on his throne, but not rising.
Despite being devilishly handsome, Hermione could see that he was far too gaunt and pale, unwell and weak. It was no wonder, she knew, the spell that had trapped Draco Malfoy like a prisoner in his own mind was beginning to destroy it as well. She had come to hopefully reverse the spell, and bring Draco Malfoy out of his enchanted sleep. She had braved the darkest parts of his soul; she had nearly died trying to get to the root of the problem, the Ferret Prince. Now that she stood before him, he was begging her to stay with her in his decaying kingdom.
Hermione had thought that if she found the ruler of this mental kingdom, she would find the source of the spell, but as she stood at the very top of this world, she knew she was no closer to brining Malfoy out of his dream.
“Jewels, wishes, anything…” he continued.
Hermione felt a cold wind blow gently across her face, rustling her hair, which in Malfoy’s world was not as unruly and hideously tangled as it was in reality. The wind had a scent that made her turn her eyes to what she had been assuming was north in this twisted kingdom.
“I will be whatever you want me to be… Your prince, your lover...”
To the far north, in the darkness of the physical decay of Malfoy’s mind, Hermione saw a distant flash of light.
“Love me, fear me…”
She lifted her chin as she caught the scent of magic blowing from the void that signified the damage of the spell in Malfoy’s mind. On the edge of the void was a light, like a lighthouse caught in a hurricane of black cloud.
“I will be your slave.”
Hermione’s eyes moved back to the Ferret Prince, his words loaded with so much raw emotion that she almost believed he was weeping. He sat back in his ivory throne, his chin resting on his fist, gazing at her so intently that she frowned.
“Slave?” she repeated.
“If that is what you desire.”
She teetered on the edge of the step for a moment, nearly tumbling down. Hermione learned early that Malfoy’s brain retained the basic rules of physics, bar a few here and there. If she were to take a step, she would tumble to her death, and dying in Malfoy’s mind would mean that her body in the real world died. Dying was not on her list of things to do in Malfoy’s mind.
“Do you even know who I am?” she asked, her knees starting to wobble as the clouds below her moved and she could see the ground what seemed like thousands of feet below.
“Of course, I do. This is my kingdom, I know who exists with in it,” the Ferret Prince drawled, letting his fist move to his lap so that he sat back into his airborne throne.
“Then you know why I am here?”
The Ferret Prince lifted his sharp chin, visibly rebuffed.
“You have worn me down, beaten me, and now you wish to annoy me with useless questions?”
Hermione had to kneel down, sit on the step to keep from falling, vertigo setting in. It was clear that Draco Malfoy, the Ferret Prince, had no idea who she was. If he did, Hermione was sure that she would have had a harder time getting to make contact with his ‘ego.’
‘Super-ego’ had guided her through the nebulous kingdom in the incarnation of ‘Corda,’ the man sized white ferret. ‘Id’ had tortured her, poured its darkness upon her, and acted as the villain in the incarnation of ‘Daroc,’ the Death Eater cum Dark Lord of Shadow cum raw instinct. Now, she sat regarding ‘Ego,’ the Ferret Prince, ‘Draco.’
If only the three could become one, as was natural, and help her reach the event horizon of the spell damage.
Hermione sighed, weary, and began trying to persuade the Ferret Prince to come down from his ivory throne. If she had to make Draco her slave, she would.
Author: ianthe_waiting
Rating: T
Disclaimer: The Harry Potter books and their characters are the property of JK Rowling. This is a work of fan-fiction. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made from this story. I am just borrowing the puppets, but this is my stage.
Genre: Drabble
Warnings: None
Summary: #91 – Slave. If she had to make him her slave, she would.
Word Count: 976 words.
Author's Notes: Drabble: a slice of fic in less than 1500 words. A fragment of the idea I have for my next DM/HG writing project.
Prompt 91 – Slave
There was something slightly familiar about all of this, she thought.
“Don’t go, don’t leave me here alone.”
He was pleading with her the best way Draco Malfoy knew how, with a haughty smirk and flashing silver eyes.
Hermione Granger was trying not to think too much about her surroundings, standing on the tip of a high pinnacle of winding stone steps. It was a ruin of a castle, reminiscent of Hogwarts, but not quite. She had climbed the stairs to reach him, the infamous Ferret Prince, the ruler of the land of Malfoy.
It was Malfoy’s trapped mind, in truth, Malfoy unable to move beyond his brain, his subconscious. Hermione found it to be a twisted Malfoy version of Wonderland.
Atop the highest point in the land of Malfoy, Hermione tried to keep her balance, the drop from the last broken step so high that there were clouds obscuring the ground below. However, it was where she found him, the Ferret Prince, sitting on an elaborate throne on a cloud across a wide breach between stone and cloud.
“Stay with me.”
Hermione exhaled, unaware she had been holding her breath for so long.
The Ferret Prince, an apt name, she thought, was dressed in a costume worthy of a masque, his long silver tresses falling about his sharp face in shining strands and tiny braids with bones and feather woven within the hair. He was devilishly handsome with a white fur lined cloak over his wide shoulders; ruffled shirt, tight breeches, and albino dragon hide boots with wickedly sharp silver spikes on the toes. On his belt, he carried a long, thin sword with an emerald embedded in the pommel.
“I’ll give you anything you desire,” he said, leaning forward on his throne, but not rising.
Despite being devilishly handsome, Hermione could see that he was far too gaunt and pale, unwell and weak. It was no wonder, she knew, the spell that had trapped Draco Malfoy like a prisoner in his own mind was beginning to destroy it as well. She had come to hopefully reverse the spell, and bring Draco Malfoy out of his enchanted sleep. She had braved the darkest parts of his soul; she had nearly died trying to get to the root of the problem, the Ferret Prince. Now that she stood before him, he was begging her to stay with her in his decaying kingdom.
Hermione had thought that if she found the ruler of this mental kingdom, she would find the source of the spell, but as she stood at the very top of this world, she knew she was no closer to brining Malfoy out of his dream.
“Jewels, wishes, anything…” he continued.
Hermione felt a cold wind blow gently across her face, rustling her hair, which in Malfoy’s world was not as unruly and hideously tangled as it was in reality. The wind had a scent that made her turn her eyes to what she had been assuming was north in this twisted kingdom.
“I will be whatever you want me to be… Your prince, your lover...”
To the far north, in the darkness of the physical decay of Malfoy’s mind, Hermione saw a distant flash of light.
“Love me, fear me…”
She lifted her chin as she caught the scent of magic blowing from the void that signified the damage of the spell in Malfoy’s mind. On the edge of the void was a light, like a lighthouse caught in a hurricane of black cloud.
“I will be your slave.”
Hermione’s eyes moved back to the Ferret Prince, his words loaded with so much raw emotion that she almost believed he was weeping. He sat back in his ivory throne, his chin resting on his fist, gazing at her so intently that she frowned.
“Slave?” she repeated.
“If that is what you desire.”
She teetered on the edge of the step for a moment, nearly tumbling down. Hermione learned early that Malfoy’s brain retained the basic rules of physics, bar a few here and there. If she were to take a step, she would tumble to her death, and dying in Malfoy’s mind would mean that her body in the real world died. Dying was not on her list of things to do in Malfoy’s mind.
“Do you even know who I am?” she asked, her knees starting to wobble as the clouds below her moved and she could see the ground what seemed like thousands of feet below.
“Of course, I do. This is my kingdom, I know who exists with in it,” the Ferret Prince drawled, letting his fist move to his lap so that he sat back into his airborne throne.
“Then you know why I am here?”
The Ferret Prince lifted his sharp chin, visibly rebuffed.
“You have worn me down, beaten me, and now you wish to annoy me with useless questions?”
Hermione had to kneel down, sit on the step to keep from falling, vertigo setting in. It was clear that Draco Malfoy, the Ferret Prince, had no idea who she was. If he did, Hermione was sure that she would have had a harder time getting to make contact with his ‘ego.’
‘Super-ego’ had guided her through the nebulous kingdom in the incarnation of ‘Corda,’ the man sized white ferret. ‘Id’ had tortured her, poured its darkness upon her, and acted as the villain in the incarnation of ‘Daroc,’ the Death Eater cum Dark Lord of Shadow cum raw instinct. Now, she sat regarding ‘Ego,’ the Ferret Prince, ‘Draco.’
If only the three could become one, as was natural, and help her reach the event horizon of the spell damage.
Hermione sighed, weary, and began trying to persuade the Ferret Prince to come down from his ivory throne. If she had to make Draco her slave, she would.