Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Contrasts : Part II : Draco ❯ Draco ( Chapter 1 )

Grey eyes watched dispassionately as the three men ran past him, tackling a young teenage girl to the ground. These displays of virulent, animalistic lust always struck him as being disgusting. Still watching them from the dark shadow he was standing in, he snorted inaudibly as one of his father's friends, Nott from all appearances, straddled the muggle girl.

 

Suddenly one of the men keeled over. Startled, Draco fixed his gaze on the remaining two just as the second flew away from the girl's form. There…a bolt of crimson light darted through the air from an unknown source and Nott hurtled through the air to land on the sidewalk with a sickening crack and as if that one sound had broken some mental barrier, the sounds of the raid filled his ears. Shuddering, Draco tried to ignore how the screams were echoing in his head and focused back on the escaping girl.

 

The Avada Kedavra spell shot out of the darkness from some drunken wizard and smashed into the girl's back, sending her body arching into violent spasms before her corpse landed with another crunch. Shivering light, Draco stepped forward, prodding Nott's body with a toe, sneering in disgust at the feeling of the blood clinging to the sole of his boot as he attempted to figure out what curse had killed him.

 

“That's interesting…” he muttered as the evidence of a simple stunning spell sparked against the pavement. Apparently, he wasn't supposed to have been killed…the sound burst again in his skull and he glanced down the street as the main body of the raiders ran past him, juggling the muggles for fun. Shrugging, as he had seen much worse that night, he turned to walk away when one of the floating figures caught his eye.

 

That hair looked familiar some how…

 

Watching her, he stared as the suspended woman stared at the ravanged house across the street and put a single finger to her lips,

 

`be quiet'

 

…before the Death Eater was taken out by a pyjama-clad muggle with a strange shining object [didn't they call it a gun? He could have sworn it was called that] and the woman dropped to the ground with another sickening crack that echoed across the street.

 

A small sound, a small human sound somehow reached his ears over the din and the noises faded away again until he was focused strictly on finding the source of that tiny gasp. One of the shadows moved unnaturally and he smirked,

 

“Come out, whoever you are, and I promise I'll kill you quickly” and aimed his wand towards the crouched silhouette he could now clearly see.

 

Silence reigned.

 

Then a dull pain in his stomach as the grey blob slammed against his stomach. Cursing, he inhaled with a painful shock and shoved the thing off of him. Lunging to his feet, the blond teen snatched his wand up and pointed it at the sprawled figure…

 

“How dare you! Avada Ke-!”

 

…who was just picking herself up, brown curls as defiant as her eyes.

 

Grey met Brown…

 

And his tongue froze in his mouth, the spell hovering, deadly, on his lips.

 

Silver met Gold…

 

And his wand wavered as they stared at each other and slowly fell until it pointed harmlessly at the street.

 

Slytherin met Gryffindor…

 

And another stream of Death Eaters darted between them, dark cloaks hiding her from his view just for a second.

 

And she was gone.

 

Cursing, Draco flicked his wand and with a quietly muttered spell, disappeared as well, reappearing in his father's parlour. The man in question was still out, as far as Draco knew, and he would be out for a few more hours. A quiet gasp at the door drew his attention to the pale form of his mother, who was standing with a shocked expression on her usually haughty features,

 

“Draco?” She bustled forward, drawing him out of the study and into the cosily lit family room, “What are you doing back? Your father assured me you'd be gone for many more hours yet…” Draco shrugged and tugged off the dirt encrusted robe, casting a lingering glance at the burnt image on his forearm.

 

“I didn't feel like it Mother, too loud tonight I suppose.” Narcissa nodded in understanding and snapped her fingers for a house elf to take his soiled robe.

 

“Well, your father mentioned bringing some of his…” she grasped for a word to fill the gap, “work…home with him. He'll be expecting you in the…” again, silence for the unseemly word dungeon, “…in his hobby room at midnight. Be there on time my son.” Draco nodded and strode towards the tall staircase in the middle of the entry way,

 

“I'm going to rest before then Mother, unless you need assistance with something?” Narcissa shook her head and watched her only son stride away to his room with a sigh. Pursing her lips, she firmly shook her head and drew back into her private solar and returned to her thoughts, her eyes fastened on the enchanted knitting needles…knit and purl, knit knit purl, knit knit purl…knit knit purl……knit…knit…purl…

 

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