Dark Desire

DARK DESIRE -
CHAPTER ONE

"So, what do you say?"

Draconis Arian Malfoy's jaw dropped, not even close to being controlled. This was something that his training in the art of Emotion Masking had definitely not prepared him for.

When the Malfoy scion had awoken this morning, he had expected many things: Pansy's constant flirting with Blaise, Blaise's constant flirting with him, the Gryffindorks doing something idiotic, and a myriad of other things. But this had not been among them.

In fact, the next to very last thing on Draco Malfoy's "List of What Not to Expect", the farther down on the list something was meaning the less chance there was of him expecting it, and just before the Dark Lord going Light/Dumbledore going Dark, was Harry Potter asking for a truce, let alone any other Gryffindork. Especially dressed as he was, which before that moment, hadn't even crossed his mind, but would have been the very last thing on his "List of What Not to Expect" if it ever had.

He was just on his way back to the Common Room from dinner; actually, he was hiding from both Pansy and Blaise, but Malfoys never hide, so he also owned a rather nice waterfront property on the river of Denial. He was *cough* from Pansy and Blaise when he had been pulled into a disused classroom by none other than Harry 'The Boy-Who-Wouldn't-Bloody-Die' Potter. He was just about to yell at the other teen for grabbing him without warning, but that was before he got a good look at the other teen's appearance.

He had pale skin, faintly reddish lips and black hair. His hair was slightly wavy and reached his chin in little, choppy ripples. His eyebrow length bangs were dyed a rainbow of colours, along with the back, which was a bit up, showing just above his head, in several hair ties of the same fashion, each accompanied by the hair it held, dyed a matching, but not the same, colour. He wore a yellow halter top that held his figure, with a black cat on the chest, in front of a light blue heart; the sleeves were several cloths of different colours, each around three or four inches long, attached to each other, and the shirt, with safety pins, leaving his shoulders bare. He had countless bracelets on each arm, in a myriad of colours, his fingers and hands covered in writing that Draco thought was his; apparently, he was ambidextrous. There was a big orange belt on his waist, about one and a half inches over the bottom of the shirt and two and a half inches over the top of the skirt. The skirt was actually several, the top being bright pink and about halfway down his thighs. The second was lime green with yellow polka dots and reached just past his knees, and the last one was actually a vertically striped black and white pair of cargo pants going down to the middle of his calves. Dark purple, almost black, leggings, with miniature rainbows on them, went into his shoes, which were a pair of grey and green trainers showing the evidence of his obvious love of markers on them; the laces were neon blue and had drawings of various cute animals on them, mostly heads, ears, and paws, but Draco could have sworn that he could see a set or two of rather evil looking teeth mixed in among all of the cute things on them.

On anyone else, it would have been a rather chaotic looking outfit, but on him, it was pulled off rather well, on someone that appeared to have no fashion sense what-so-ever, which Draco would never admit out loud.

"Flies, Draco, flies."

That comment, coming from the mouth of his arch rival in a slightly tinkling voice, followed by a slightly tinkling laugh, made his jaw pop as it dropped a little further.

Harry sighed, rolled his eyes, and walked over to the blonde. He raised his hand to the other's face, and, with a clicking noise, closed the blonde's mouth. "Better?" he smirked, then turned around and strolled across the room, sitting on a table with his back leaning against the wall farthest from Draco, facing him.

Draco sneered and walked over to the table Harry was sitting on, dragging a chair with him on his way and turning it around backwards before he sat down, one leg on either side of the chair and arms crossed over the back. "Well, Potter. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't curse you into next week."

"Well, if you wanted to, you could have, and you haven't."

"What do you mean, 'if I wanted to'? I *do* want to!"

"No you don't, end of discussion," Harry said, raising a hand and snickering a little at the affronted look on the Malfoy's face at being cut off. "It's the end of the discussion because I have a lot to say, plus we have to get back to our Common Rooms and I have to change back in to my usual attire, most of which needs to happen before curfew, which is in about -- " he lifted his sleeve to check his watch, which was a bright pink little thing, "two hours, and trust me, we'll need the time. So, if you would just listen until I am finished, then we can get to bed, which I, most likely unlike you, really need, as I've been awake since roughly five o'clock this morning."

Draco nodded, and the room seemed to shimmer, as if it was in a heat wave.

When the shimmering stopped, Draco saw that they were in a Japanese style sitting room.

The room was done in dark greens and blues. There were two armchairs, one dark green and the other dark blue, about two feet behind them, one a little ways to the left, the other a little ways to the right, and both were low to the ground. There was a fireplace lower to the ground than a British fireplace, set more in the junction of the floor and the wall than anything else. They were sitting in front of a low coffee table with their legs under it; under the table it was really warm, as if it were heated. The floor below them was also really warm; even though the floor was stone, there was a thick plush rug that spanned from the armchairs, past the table, and stopped just short of the fireplace, so as not to be a potential hazard. There was food on the coffee table; most of it consisted of rice and other things, and most of it Draco didn't recognize, with the exception of a sweet that he had tried once and loved, and he saw it under a clear class lid; he swore that it was called 'mochi', if he remembered correctly.

"Do you like it?" Harry's voice broke through his observation of the room, and nearly made him jump; the voice was much closer than it had been before; it was right next to his ear, as a matter of fact.

But Malfoys are one hundred percent calm all the time, and never show any reaction to anything above a minutely small facial movement, unless it had to do with someone they cared deeply for, and was in private; or they had lost their mind, but that's something else entirely. And because Draco's last name was Malfoy for a reason, his reaction was a scowl and a muttered, "How the fuck did you do that?" the obscenity being the only sign that what had just happened had unnerved him.

"The 'shimmery roomy thingy', or the 'I was over there just a second ago, but now I'm over here thingy'?" Harry asked eloquently, and without waiting for a response, answered, "Well, the 'shimmery roomy thingy' is part of what this room is, and so is the 'I was over there just a second ago, but now I'm over here thingy'."

"And that helps my knowledge all of none," Draco said, raising an eyebrow and gesturing for Harry to explain further.

"Er," Harry stammered, and the section of the wall above the fireplace shimmered, a painting of a snake on the background of a bed, in a gilded frame revealed when the shimmering stopped. "This room belongs to him," he gestured to the snake in the painting.

"How does this room belong to a snake?" Draco asked as he looked at it.

The snake looked to be a python, or a boa constrictor, and had a deep green head, the colours on the rest of his body slowly fading from one shade of green to another, ending in an inch or two of bright lime green on his tail. His eyes flicked open and shot to Draco, and he was rather surprised to see that they were a deep shade of purple.

The snake's tongue flicked out as it spoke, tasting the air, and Draco was surprised that he could understand the snake. "Because, hatchling, this is only my Animagus form."

"So, are you going to just change form in there, or do you want me to project you?" Harry said, obviously knowing the snake.

"I think I'd like to be projected tonight," the snake replied, and his eyes flashed.

Harry murmured something along the lines of 'damn sadistic bastard', and closed his eyes. The painting shimmered, and a sort of tunnel of shimmering light travelled down to the floor before it disappeared, leaving the snake from the painting on the floor in front of the fireplace.

[A/N: I actually think that this is the first Authoress's Note that I have in this chapter! That's nothing like me, at all!]