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Sparkling Silver By: kuroneko89 Rating:
R Genre:
Romance/Action/Adventure Disclaimer:
I own nothing of Harry Potter. Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling and some other
agents like Scholastic, Bloomsbury and Warner Bros. Inc. Warning:
This story contains vampirism (yeah, yeah, boring, I know) – not that Draco or
Harry was the vampire though, mind you – and SLASH, or in other words:
MALE/MALE relationship! Homophobes, please go ELSEWHERE and DON’T READ THE
FIC!! And
also, I would like to ask you to please, PLEASE tolerate my suck English, as I
am just a mere Indonesian teenager who do not speak English for my mother
tongue! ------------------------- Chapter
1: Massacre ------------------------- Harry
James Potter woke up in his bed up there in the Gryffindor Tower with a snap. It
was the first day only, and he had already received weird dreams, albeit
Voldemort-less (Harry had trained Occlumency with Lupin and Mr. Weasley back
then during his Summer Holiday, and although those two were not as good as Snape
(Harry hated to admit, yes, Snape was good in Occlumency), Harry had done some
progresses, and was confident that Voldemort wouldn’t be able to probe into
his dreams anymore), the dream seemed to hold some great importance as well. The
dream itself was simple. So simple that Harry was annoyed at the vagueness of
it. Harry had felt like walking somewhere, but all he could see was pitch black,
blood red, and flashes of silver. ‘Silver’
he muttered mentally as he reached out for shower while his roommates were busy
waking Ron up, ‘the colour seems so familiar…’ A
good hour later, Harry could be seen sitting at the Great Hall, eating breakfast
with Ron while Hermione was giving out their timetables. She slipped down to an
empty space next to her boyfriend, smiling at him and went on to butter her
toast as the owls started to swoop down and delivered people’s mails. One
brown school owl scooped down at Hermione and dropped a newspaper to her as she
put her knuts into the bag that was tied to the owl’s leg. Ron
leered over his girlfriend’s shoulder and his nose scrunched in disgust.
“You still subscribe that rubbish Daily Prophet?” Hermione
lifted her head up indignantly and glared a little at the red-haired boy before
picking the newspaper up and began to skim through it. “At least it tells us
what happens around the Wizarding World, or what the wizards think about what is
happening around their world.” Ron
groaned, remembering all the crap that had been published the previous year, but
Hermione made a point, and arguing with her would be stupid, so he decided to
continue to devour his food while the brunette continued to skim the papers. It
was a while before she made a loud gasp. Raising an eyebrow, Harry turned to
her, and since he had sat opposite to her, it was impossible to try to read what
she had read by peeking into her shoulders, so he asked, “What is it,
Hermione?” The
girl gasped some more before clearing the area in front of her off plates and
food and laid down the newspapers. “Here, Harry, look!” she pointed at one
particular article. THE
DEATH OF THE DEATH-EATERS On 6.15 this morning five wizards had been found lying on the ground at a rather abandoned area of Northern Wiltshire in nasty conditions. They were all wrapped in black hooded robes, and they had masks secured on their faces. The Death-Eaters. Two of them had been found out dead, while the other two were unconscious and the last one coma, three of them suffering major injuries. Further inspection on the area resulted on the finding of the Riddle’s house, one that had been highly suspected as You-Know-Who and his followers’ Headquarter. However, the Ministry of Magic’s teamed Aurors had not found You-Know-Who himself or any of his followers in that building. Detailed causes of this sudden ‘luck’ are currently under investigation, and while doing so, the Ministry advises to keep on staying alert, no matter how good this sign might be. Continued to page 15 Harry
looked at the picture that was showing the conditions of the founded
Death-Eaters and grimaced, suddenly not feeling like eating anymore. There
was no blood, no nasty cut whatsoever, but the corpses looked so pale and
crinkled, all having horror expression on their faces. And those were enough to
put anyone out of food. Even
Ron. He
managed to take one look at the picture and his face paled. The youngest Weasley
son threw his fork down. “I’m not eating anymore.” Hermione
nodded and put down the newspapers while Harry and Ron turned their attention to
their timetables in attempt to forget the mental image. While Ron could
successfully forget the dread in his mind, Harry could only groan more. Ron
arched his eyebrow and looked at the raven-haired Gryffindor. “What’s wrong
mate?” “Double
Potions after breakfast,” Harry grunted, putting his face into his hands. Hermione
checked her watch and stood up, half pulling Harry to stand up as well. “Me
too. Come on Harry, we don’t want Snape to take fifty points off Gryffindor
just because you’re one second late.” Harry
grunted again, but stood up nonetheless. “I know,” he said with a frown on
his face. Ron tried to cheer him up. “Come on, Harry, there’s DADA
afterwards!” “Yeah,”
a thin smile tugged on Harry’s face as he remembered about Tonks being this
year’s DADA’s teacher, but suddenly his heart sunk at the thought of the
cold girl they met the previous night. The Boy Who Lived tried to be careful not
to let it show though, waved at Ron and left the Great Hall. “See you at DADA,
Ron!” “See
you!!” Harry could hear his red-haired boy replied before he was out of
hearing site. ------------------------- Double
Potions with Snape, as always, turned out to be a nightmare. Especially when his
Advance Potions class seemed to be filled with mostly Slytherins, with the
exception of Crabbe and Goyle. Harry and Hermione were the only Gryffindors in
that class, together with a number of Ravenclaws and totally no Hufflepuff. The
first few minutes had been torture. Snape had been insulting the hell out of
him, taking off points for not being able to answer difficult questions while
ignoring Hermione’s raised hand, telling how Harry might have manipulated the
Examiner with a flash of smile or perhaps a promise of getting his autograph,
with all the Slytherins laughing at each vain invective. Harry’s eyes trailed
to look at a certain pale Slytherin with silver blond hair. Malfoy’s cheeks
were still convex, there were still shadows underneath his eyes, and his hair
was still hanging loosely around his face, but he was also still, at least to
Harry, normal, as he was still laughing at Snape’s every insult at Harry. In
fact, Malfoy was laughing so hard that it seemed to be forced. Not
enough with the verbal abuse he had done to Harry, Snape had to set the
Gryffindor to work with Malfoy, of all people Malfoy, to do a very complicated
Veritaserum potion. Harry sat down next to the Slytherin with a gloomy heart. If
every lesson turned out to be like this, he might as well be ready to kiss Auror
Good Bye now. Harry
had expected Malfoy to snap at him to get all the ingredients and let himself do
the work, telling that Harry was lousy in Potions and the snob couldn’t risk
marring his marks; or even letting him ruin the work and laughed at him
afterwards, not worrying about his marks since he was Snape’s favourite, or
something like that. Of
all possibilities, Harry mostly did not expect Malfoy to let them do the work
together like decent partners, silently correcting him whenever he was wrong,
and even letting him take turns in stirring. Of course, the aristocratic
arrogant smirk, the sneer and some small insults being thrown around them were
still intact, but there was absolutely no heart panging and disgracing insult
coming from Malfoy’s usually foul mouth. Harry
was confused. Moreover,
whenever it was his turn on working the potion, he could feel a pair of eyes
following his every move, but when he looked up and tried to find the pair of
eyes that were looking at him, he only founded Malfoy’s gray eyes, whose owner
only sneered silently before looking another way, making Harry more confused
than ever. Malfoy
was being too quiet. ‘He
must be plotting something on me,’ Harry tried to reassure himself as he set a
glare to the blonde’s direction, only to find that grave expression was
plastered on his pale face again before being replaced by a mask of
indifference. ‘He must be plotting something on me,’ Harry said again to
himself, ‘that bastard can not be a nice person.’ One’s
intuition could get wrong. At
almost the end of the lesson, Snape went over to each student’s cauldron,
testing the Veritaserum to each one of a pair. He had a really huge malicious
grin when he was reaching Harry and Malfoy’s cauldron. He put a small amount
of potion to the veil and his eyes glinted. “Potter, drink this so that we can
test the efficiency of your potion.” Harry
scowled. Of course, Snape would want to humiliate him, but he wouldn’t let the
greased haired Professor do that. He had nothing humiliating, though. And to
keep himself off trouble, he took the veil and drank the potion in one gulp. Immediately,
Harry turned into a dazed state, and Snape’s grin widened. “Okay, we’ll
start with easy questions. What’s your name?” “Harry
James Potter.” Harry answered dully. “When
and where are you born?” “31st
July 1980 at I don’t know where.” Snape
paused before his eyes made a glint. “Who do you love?” Harry
was still in his dazed state. “My parents, my Godfather, the Weasleys and my
friends, including Ron and Hermione.” Snape
almost wanted to smack Harry’s head. “Anyone you have special feeling
with?” Harry
tilted his head. “Hate, yes. Love, no.” “Absolutely
no love?” “No.”
There came a straight answer. Snape
walked around the boy for a while, pondering of other questions that might be
able to humiliate the Gryffindor. While doing that, all the Slytherins had had
their eyes on Harry’s dazed state, waiting for a show. “When
is your most embarrassing moment?” Hermione
almost wanted to shout, ‘that’s beyond privacy, sir!’ but Harry had beaten
her into it. “When looking into the Pensieve and found out how a jerk my
father had been. I hadn’t been able to face you for weeks.” Quite
taken aback by that answer, Snape muttered the first question that was in his
mind. “So, who do you hate, then?” Harry
tilted his head again. “Voldemort,” some student winced at hearing the Dark
Lord’s name, “you,” Snape snorted at this answer, “Bellatrix
Lestrange,” Snape raised his eyebrow, but Harry continued, “Draco Malfoy.”
He finished neatly. Snape
tried to ask a few more questions and bait an embarrassing moment of Harry.
Everyone’s attention was so locked into that scene that no one realized that
someone was screaming in the inside, heart shattering and tears threatening to
fall from a beautiful pair of eyes. At
finding that he had managed to bait no humiliating moment and Harry’s potion
had been a perfect example of an effective Veritaserum, and he clearly saw that
Harry had been taking turns with helping Malfoy finishing the potion, Snape
scowled, and turned to Malfoy. “That was a good work, Mr. Malfoy. Ten points
for Slytherin.” The
blonde’s eyes seemed to widen a bit, as if he was just brought back to earth
from his trance, before placing a smirk on his face. “Thank you, Professor,”
he said proudly, and Harry scowled mentally but also relieved that Snape took no
more points off him. A
few more minutes passed, and the bell rang. All the students quickly cleaned up
the mess and put their books back into their backs, leaving a veil on the
Potions Master’s desk before leaving the class, sighing as they heard Snape
shouting at them to do two scrolls essay about Veritaserum. Harry caught up with
Hermione and grinned. “That was a hell of Potion lesson!!” The
brunette smiled thinly. “I can say yes.” Harry
grinned again before his face panicked. “I didn’t say anything stupid, did
I?” Hermione’s
smile widened and she shook her head. “Nope! None at all. And Snape looked a
bit pissed at finding out about the perfect efficiency of your Potion and not
being able to bait anything at all.” The
green-eyed boy grinned again. “Well, nice to know that. ‘Bout the perfect
Potion…it was purely Malfoy though.” Hermione
squinted her eyes. “Pardon?” Harry
sighed. “Malfoy,” he repeated, “was not being his usual pratty self. He
was quiet, and he corrected me whenever I was close to doing something wrong
without even insulting.” The
brunette furrowed her eyebrows. “Weird,” she commented. Harry
shrugged. “Perhaps he’d just hit his head somewhere and messed up with his
mind.” Hermione
laughed and slapped him friendlily on the back. “Funny deduction.” Harry
grinned. Soon
enough, as they walked upstairs towards their DADA classroom, they met up with
Ron, and together they continued walking and approached the classroom. Harry
made a tiny smile as he saw the combination of the class. There were many other
Gryffindors in there, not heavy sided like his Advanced Potions class, and
definitely less Slytherin, even though he knew that his most hated rival was
currently sitting in that class as well. Harry ignored that for the time being
and took the front seats with Hermione and Ron next to him. They
waited for a while before Tonks practically stumbled into the room, almost
dropping the books she was holding, and smiled at the student, her hair still
red but her robes blue. She plopped down the books and smiled. “Good Morning,
students, I am Professor Tonks! Nice to meet you!” she said before winking at
Harry, and surprisingly, Malfoy. “I can see my wonderful friend Harry and my
cousin Dwaco here!” Malfoy
instantly looked annoyed at being called ‘Dwaco’, while everyone else
laughed, the Gryffindors the loudest. Harry smacked his head for forgetting the
family tree he saw back there in the Black Manor. “Please,
Professor Nymph-adora,” the silver blond haired replied calmly, “You can
keep your pet names to yourself.” The
Slytherins sniggered, and some of the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were stifling
their giggles. Tonks frowned for a while. “Okay, that’s fine there, Draco.
No more names.” She smiled again. “Now, for your lesson today, I-” Suddenly,
the door of the classroom opened, and the girl – the very same pale and
pointed gray-eyed girl who had made many of the students shivered the previous
night, came and entered the room. She walked up right to the Auror and smiled
wryly. “Not waiting for your *assistant*, I assume?” Again, that chilling
feminine voice echoed in the room. Tonks
looked startled, and she stuttered. “I…Uh-I…” But
the girl ignored the red-haired witch, and turned to the class. She lifted her
hand, and wrote her name on the air – wandless. ‘A-M-A-D-E-A’
she wrote slowly as many of the classroom shivered again at the red colour of
the letters. She smiled as she finished. The
students frowned at each other. “Professor,” called Hermione, voicing the
other students’ confusion as well, “can you please tell us your surname?” The
girl, still clothed in all black and a necklace with a black cross pendant hung
around her neck, made another smile before she nodded. “Don’t be sorry if I
write it, though,” she said, and wrote in the air again with her pale finger. ‘M-A-S-S-A-C-R-E’
Silence. In
all sudden, the whole classroom went into panic. Hermione’s eyes bulged. The
Massacres were very well known as the most Ancient and powerful family of all
vampires in the entire world, not only in Wizarding families, even in the Muggle
society as well. Claire Massacre herself was the ancestor of all vampires, and
the Massacre family consisted of the very few people she herself had turned into
vampires. The
black-clothed girl snapped her fingers. “Quiet please!!” she half-shouted,
and the whole classroom froze. She smiled thinly again, less awry than before,
as she stood in front of the classroom. “First
of all,” her voice turned sharp, so as her eyes, “I am a mate of a vampire.
Thus I will not need to ‘feed’. So, no worries.” She emphasized on the
‘feed’ word, and some people, like Hermione, relaxed visibly, but many were
still unconvinced. The
girl ignored the unconvinced looks, however, and proceeded. “Second of all, I
would like to be called Professor Amadea, not Professor Massacre. Am I being
clear here?” some people still hadn’t moved, but Hermione and some
Ravenclaws nodded, and that was enough a reaction for the pale girl. “Good.”
She smiled a non-awry smile, and some more people relaxed, but most of them were
still stiff as board. She noticed that. “To get used to this fact, we can
perhaps turn into the chapter about vampires in the book today, and learn. If
you have any question, you can ask me.” A timid hand was raised to the air.
Professor Amadea smiled. “Yes, Patil?” The
girl stood up, face not looking too relaxed, but definitely not stiff. “Mind
if I ask…how old are you?” The
vampire smiled again, a definite non-awry but an amused one. “A little over
forty here,” she chuckled, her gray eyes glowing. Harry
almost gaped. Who would have thought that the fifteen looking years old girl was
actually forty years old? Hermione
raised her hand, and Professor Amadea allowed her to question. “Wouldn’t
that mean that the Vampire that that have you as a mate…sorry…is much, much
older than you? Since he was one of the most Ancient vampires turned by Claire
Massacre herself?” Amadea
chuckled again, and her eyes brightened. “You’re a bright young witch there,
Ms. Granger. Yes, Matthew Massacre is more than 4 centuries older than I am,”
she said, amused as many gasps, mostly from the girls, could be heard around the
room, before adding, “but that didn’t matter, did it? Since we have an
eternity to live?” Hermione
nodded, before adding in a quieter voice. “But I suppose…that the moment Mr.
Matthew Massacre saw you, he Turned you immediately?” she blushed faintly. In
all sudden most of the girls, and some boys as well, turned their attention to
the raven-haired teacher, and didn’t see as one of the students winced. Amadea
went silent before laughing good-naturedly. “Well, I suppose, after not being
able to have any sexual intercourse for four hundred years, one can get horny,
yes?” Harry
blushed at the blatant use of words, while Amadea only smiled further, and
explained to those who seemed not to understand why four hundred years must be
undergone without any sexual intercourse. “Once turned into a Vampire, one
would have a decided mate, and he/she can not do any sexual intercourse with any
one else. More can be read in the book, if you open page 237, please? Once
again, if you have any question, please ask me.” Tonks seemed to have been
forgotten. The
class went into a quiet reading for a while, with some occasional questionings
and most of the students convinced that Professor Amadea was no great danger to
them. Suddenly, Pansy’s hand rose to the air. “Yes,
Ms. Parkinson?” The
dirty blond girl stood up, and sneered at the small looking Professor.
“You’re a half breed. Why should you be our teacher?” Some Slytherins
nodded with her. A
small awry smile crept its way back to Amadea’s thin pink lips again.
“Well,” she waved her fingers around again, and Pansy drew sharp breath as
suddenly one of her nails turned very sharp, long and black in colour. Many
students drew their breaths as well as Amadea approached Pansy. “You know not
to mess with a vampire,” she said, eyes glinting a shade of crimson. The
dirty blond girl nodded timidly and sat down again. The
silence became uncomfortable. Suddenly, again, a timid hand rose up. “Yes,
Mr. Zabini?” The
Slytherin stood and said quietly, “Mind telling us whose family did you belong
to before you were Turned?” Amadea’s
eyes, which had returned back into gray colour, squinted. “And why, would that
be important to you?” Zabini
fell quiet, but his eyes were begging, so as the other Slytherins’ in the
classroom. The
silence became unbearable, and the vampire sighed. “I was a Malfoy.” All
eyes turned to the silver blond haired boy who was sitting uncomfortably on his
seat. Malfoy himself furrowed his eyebrows and put on a confused look to his
face. “Do
you believe it?” suddenly, Amadea’s feminine cold voice broke again, and all
eyes turned back to her to find her smiling a weird kind of smile, one that made
the seer decided for him/herself the meaning behind the smile. Many took it as a
joke, however, as she winked at Malfoy and so they laughed. The
bell rang, and as the vampire asked the student to finish the reading about
vampires for the next lesson, everyone packed up and left the room, Harry still
eyeing the aura around the girl, but with a much more relaxed expression. After
all, he’d read that Vampires were strong, so the aura around the girl should
be natural, considering that she was Turned by one of the most Ancient and
powerful Vampires in the world. A
few moments passed, and as Tonks packed up and hurriedly left the room as well,
leaving for Lunch, the only ones left in the room were Malfoy and Professor
Amadea. The boy had this really grave look in his silver eyes and he was very
slightly trembling. Amadea eyed him from head to toe quickly as he made his way
out of the classroom. “Draco?” The
boy stopped, and turned at the vampire who was sitting on the teacher’s desk. “It
is okay to cry, you know?” Her voice was soft, so caring, and so motherly. Draco
froze on his feet for a while before he walked to her and put his head against
her chest, tears already pouring out of his silver eyes, hands holding the
vampire’s small form tightly, and the vampire hugged the Slytherin back, one
hand petting the boy’s silky hair, while the other one patting his back,
soothing him. “Let
it out, Draco…” she said as he sobbed uncontrollably, “let it out…” ------------------------- End
of Chapter 1 Written
20th June 2004 5.30 am A/N: I’m so sleepy…SLEEPY!! Staying up the whole night to type this… So…how is it? Do you understand more? Or less? REVIEW PLEASE!! And I’ll tell you more!! REVIEW THIS CHAPTER
Background (c) Juli (c) Kuroneko89 |