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A Harry Potter Fanfiction: Sparkling Silver By: kuroneko89 Rating: R Genre: Romance/Action/Adventure Synopsis: Everything was so
shocking. Just as expected from the life of the Boy Who Refused to Die Harry
Potter and the Wizarding World’s upcoming war. SLASH HPDM, RWHG. 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! ------------------------- Prologue ------------------------- “Crucio!!” A loud, heart-wrenching
scream filled the Manor. A woman with long and silky blond hair could be seen
rocking herself at the corner of the room, tears threatening to fall from her
beautiful blue eyes as she watched her beloved boy writhing painfully on the
floor, his hair floppy and his silver eyes clenched, his body curling into a
tight ball. “Please,
Father…stop…!” The man gritted his teeth
and sank his fingers on the boy’s fine silky hair, pulling it harshly, making
the boy whimper in pain. “Listen, you pathetic son of mine!! YOU WILL BE
WHATEVER I ASK YOU TO BE!!” “But…” The man roared, threw the
boy to the floor again and put more force to his Cruciatus Curse, making the boy
scream louder than before, as the man asked the house elf to get his leather
lash. The timid creature presented it to its Master with scared eyes. The lash made its harsh
contact with the boy’s slender back, making the pale skin ripped open with
blood pouring out of it, as the boy whimpered some more, silent tears pouring
from his eyes. The man kept on hitting, hitting and hitting his son with rage. “I will hear no more of
this stupid wish of yours!!” Another Cruciatus. Another
whips. “Yes Father…yes…” And the torture continued… ------------------------- Harry James Potter woke up
from his bed with a huge, bored yawn. He looked around dully and walked out of
his bed, a loud snore in the room indicating that he was not alone. Harry was
indeed not alone. He was not in that foul Muggle house of Uncle Vernon. Straight after the first
week of Summer Holiday, Harry had been taken out to number 12 Grimmauld Place,
known as the Black Manor or the Headquarter of the Order of the Phoenix, his new
house inherited from Sirius Black along with his Gringgott fault, which the boy
had gladly shared with his ex-Professor Remus John Lupin. A short while after Harry
was taken to that place, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, his two best
friends and now the official new Gryffindor couple had gone and stayed in the
Black Manor as well. Together with the adults they practiced advanced magic,
especially for Harry, in preparation for the upcoming war. They also helped the
Order as much as they could, even though being underage wizards meant that they
could not be official members yet, they still helped a lot. The Order had heard the news
that Lucius Malfoy and almost all the other Death-Eaters that were caught back
there in the Department of Mysteries had succeeded on the attempt on escaping
Azkaban (Probably helped by the Dark Lord himself), and Harry had been more than
determined to defeat Voldemort and his followers. He had held a very special
grudge towards them, especially to a witch named Bellatrix Lestrange, the woman
who killed his beloved Godfather. Harry had promised that his Godfather dying in
an attempt on trying to protect him would not be useless. And Harry never broke his
promises. This day was the last day of
Summer Holiday. Earlier on that month they had purchased all the things that
would be needed for that school year, including new books for their NEWTs
classes (Harry had surprisingly passed for Potions Advanced class as well) and
had received their OWLs result even earlier on in July, Hermione with thirteen
OWLs, Harry eleven OWLs and Ron eight OWLs. Harry had also gotten himself new
set of Hogwarts robes; he had been in his growth sprout that holiday, having not
eating Dudley’s horrible diet menu. Harry had even been on the same height
with Ron. That was not the only change
that happened to Harry’s body. The trainings he achieved with the adults
during Summer Holiday made him develop his muscles, making him more built and
what Hermione told him as ‘edible’ than before. Everywhere he went he was
showered with more gazes thrown his way, and he was well aware of that, but
decided to ignore the fact. After all, he was the Boy Who Lived, he had been
getting attentions ever since he first stepped foot on the Wizarding World. Hours passed, and all the
occupants of the house could be seen busy packing things into their trunks and
rummaging the place for one last check. They then called for two Muggle cabs to
transport them, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny being the only ones left
attending Hogwarts, and went off to King’s Cross. They passed through the
barrier quickly one by one, and got onto the train in a rush; the Weasleys had a
fashion of always getting on at the very last minute, and living with them
forced Harry and Hermione into that condition as well. As a result, they found
that almost all the compartments had been filled. Hermione huffed as they
walked along the long train. “If only you had got up an hour earlier, Ron!” Ron scowled. “You were the
one to keep checking every room for our things!” “Well, be thankful for
that! Without me you would have forgotten your underwear!!” “I won’t!!” ‘Here comes the lovers’
bickering.’ Harry shook his head. Ginny giggled at the two’s antics. They continued along that
way: Ron and Hermione spiting at each other while deep down in their hearts they
were loving it, Ginny giggling along with them and lastly Harry with a very
bored look on his face. The sight was quite comical, and everyone who happened
to look at them laughed instantly at site. Eventually not. As they sustained to search
for an empty compartment, they caught silver blond wisps of hair glimmering from
the corner of their eyes and stiffened. Silver blond hair could only mean one
person. Draco Malfoy. And true enough, soon, the
boy himself appeared from the compartment near the end of the train, looking as
posh and as arrogant as ever, walking over to their direction. Alone. Harry had to strain the urge
to wipe his eyes. ‘Where are his stupid cronies Crabbe and Goyle? Or even that
pug Pansy!?’ Ultimately, as they
approached each other, Hermione and Ron stopped bickering, Harry dismissed his
earlier question and they all braced for the worst insult that might come from
the Ferret’s foul mouth. Three more seconds, and they would face each other.
Two seconds…one second… Nothing. Hermione, Ron, Harry and
Ginny blinked. Still nothing. They waited. Perhaps Malfoy
decided to make them think that the mighty Slytherin had ran out of insult
before making his dramatic cabaret. Yes, it must be like that. Not as such. Draco Malfoy had passed them
just like that, without any word. Harry went to turn and
inspect the blonde with wide eyes, still not believing that the boy had passed
the opportunity to insult them. ‘What on earth had happened to Ferret’s
loony mind!?’ And that was it. Harry
couldn’t help but noticed the differences. Malfoy’s usually perfect
smooth cheeks were convex, like he had not been eating for days, and under his
eyes were black shadows, like he had not been sleeping for nights. His usually
gel-perfected hair was hanging loosely around his face, his back slightly
crouched, and even his usual arrogant style of walking was faltered. Those differences were very
small, but visible to Harry’s eyes. He shrugged. ‘He doesn’t insult us
because there is no goons to protect him. That must be it.’ Harry dismissed the nagging
in his heart with that thought and continued his search until he finally found a
compartment with only Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom inside, and they were
glad about sharing the place. Hermione and Ron put down their trunks and went
for their Prefect Meeting, promising to be back later, and they did. Together
they ate and played until they finally reached Hogwarts, any question about
Voldemort from Luna and Neville be damned. If only Harry had paid more
attention about Malfoy that time… ------------------------- The trio (plus Ginny) made
it safely to the Great Hall without Harry winching at the Thestrals. They
watched as the Hat once again sang the song about unity and as those timid
looking first years got sorted into their houses, clapping some occasional times
when someone got sorted into Gryffindor and booing when some conceited-looking
pricks got sorted into Slytherin. All the time Harry noticed the looks many of
his female classmates, and even some male ones, were giving at him, and he
ignored them as well. ‘As long as they won’t jump me in the corridors.’ Eventually, the Sorting
ceremony ended, and Dumbledore got up, doing that very same speech about the
Forbidden Forest, curfew and some school rules. Harry’s eyes wandered to the
Slytherin table opposite the wall and noticed that it was much quieter than the
previous years. He did a quick scan throughout the whole table and found out the
reason to his suspicion. Malfoy was not giving his
usual dinner show, telling people about how an old coot Dumbledore was. Instead, the boy was looking
down at the mahogany table with grave written all over his gray eyes, only to be
replaced by a thick defense wall of emotionless mask a second later. Harry shrugged again. Malfoy
must have bumped his head into something and get himself loony and all weird.
‘Not that the boy was not a loony before, mind you,’ Harry snickered at his
thought. Soon, plates of food and
goblets of drinks appeared on the tables and all the students tugged in their
meals. The Gryffindor table had its own amusement. The people enjoyed watching
how Ron gulped down all the food piled on his plates and talked at the same time
while Hermione went ranting to him about table manners. It was quite amusing. Harry’s eyes darted again,
this time to the teacher’s table. He also noticed that one of the seats, the
one located next to Professor Snape (who had glared at Harry as he caught him
looking, but the Gryffindor ignored it), the one that was supposed to be the
seat for a Defense Against the Dark Art teacher, was empty. The boy turned to
face his brown-haired friend and nudged her ribs. Hermione stopped her lecture
at once (people groaning at the loss of the comical amusement) and looked at
Harry. “Yes, Harry? What is it?” Harry pointed at the empty
seat on the teacher’s table with his eyes. “Who do you think will be the
Defense Against the Dark Art teacher this year? Do you think Dumbledore hadn’t
succeeded to find anyone?” Hermione shook her head.
“He or she must be late. I hope whoever our DADA teacher this year might turn
out to be will be a competent teacher though. Umbridge was nightmare.” Harry snorted at the
flashbacks. He snorted at the frog’s lack of field works. He also snorted for
all the detentions that foul woman had made him undergone. “Umbridge was much
worse than nightmare.” Hermione shared his opinion.
“Definitely,” she said, before returning to give the amusement back to the
Gryffindor table. Soon enough, many people had
also noticed the empty seat on the teacher’s table. Low murmurs were heard as
the students discussed about it. Dumbledore was about to stand and stop the
murmurs, but suddenly the Great Hall’s doors opened wide, and a cheerful young
witch in her earliest twenty with bright red hair and gold robes came up. Nymphadora Tonks. She came up running slightly
to the Headmaster, almost stumbling when doing so, making Harry stifled his
giggle as he remembered about the Auror’s clumsiness. She made a sheepish grin at
the Headmaster. “I’m sorry for being late, Albus!” The old Wizard smiled at
her. “No worries, my dear, sit down.” He pointed at the seat next to Snape,
and she almost practically bounced in, making the Potions Master snorted in
disparagement at her. Dumbledore ignored that gesture and stood up, clapping his
hands to get his students’ attention. “Everyone, welcome your new Defense
Against the Dark Art Teacher: Professor N. Tonks!” The witch made a squeal and
jumped up. The students looked at her with their eyebrows raised before clapping
their hands in applause. “I can’t believe Tonks
is going be our DADA teacher this year!” exclaimed Hermione and Harry grinned.
“It’s going to be much fun!” he commented, and Ron, unable to make any
comment with mouth filled full of food, nodded at them. Just as Dumbledore sat back
to his seat, and was about to tell the whole students to continue the feast, the
doors of the Great Hall opened once again, and a small hooded figure came in. All people stopped and
turned their gazes on the figure, as it slowly reached out a pair of small pale
hands and pulled down the hood. Harry had to stifle a gasp. It was a girl. An extremely
pale girl with pointed chin, her head poised high, her hair tied in a bun, silky
black in colour and her eyes cold gray, so cold that they could almost freeze
the air. Judging from her looks, she couldn’t be older than fifteen or
sixteen, but her posture held something that made people reconsider their age
judgment of the girl. And she held a breath-taking beauty. She made her way almost
arrogantly to the Headmaster, her black robes accompanied with a completely all
black attire billowing behind her. Everyone was looking at her, either in fear
or confusion. No one noticed Malfoy
flinching quite hardly as she walked passed him. She stopped right in front
of the Headmaster and made a wry smile that could make people run in fear. “I’m sorry for my
lateness, Albus…I was rather…preoccupied before,” her voice, feminine but
cold, echoed through the walls, and she smiled again, waving her fingers in
front of her as her eyes glinted. Her eyes darted to look at a greased haired
Professor sitting next to the old Wizard and anyone who were not shivering in
fear at her voice could realize that Snape was looking wide eyed at the girl,
not to mention slightly trembling. Albus Dumbledore eyed the
young looking witch in front of him seriously. He then cleared his throat,
bringing the students out of trances immediately and Snape returned to his usual
annoyed and cold composure. “It is all right, dear,” his voice, loud, clear
and wise as he locked his gaze with the girl again and stood up. “And
everyone, this will be the…assistant of your new DADA teacher this year…” Tonks shot Dumbledore a
confused look before the old gave her a stare, which shut her immediately. She
faked a smile, and pretended that everything was all right, making all the
people exhaled the breath they had been holding and continued the feast as
Dumbledore conjured a chair for the young gothic witch. Back then on the Gryffindor
Table, Ron was shivering in fear, his eating slightly slowed, while Hermione was
commenting. “An assistant? That young? She must be a genius! I’ll ask her
how to get into that position – perhaps I can be one as well?” Harry was not listening to
his surrounding comments. Cold sweat was running down his temple. He could sense
it. The witch held some sort of terrifying and strong aura. He also noticed
Snape’s wide stare at the girl. Harry wiped off his cold sweat and mused,
‘it seems to me that this year is not going to be a calm, ordinary year…’ ------------------------- End of Prologue Written 20th June
2004 1.40am A/N: No, no, no! This story
is NOT going to be the same as [Just Say You Need Me]. This rather centers on
Harry and Malfoy, and the development of relationship was definitely going to be
much faster in here. Although I would like the tell that this story will be
written in Third Person’s POV in Harry’s way of knowing, so things that
Harry doesn’t know won’t be revealed much. I’m sorry, but I like
suspicions! And I’m sorry if I made
the girl sounds like such a Mary-Sue in this chapter. There is a reason for her
beauty and cold composure. For one, she’s not a human. For two, she’s
related to someone. And that someone is also beautiful and cold.
It’s the genetics that rule. Guess that someone is. REVIEW PLEASE!! REVIEW THIS CHAPTER
Background (c) Juli (c) Kuroneko89 |