Blood, Power and Humanity

Dracos Interlude P.T.2

I stood in the hall for several seconds after Potter closed his door, a thousand thoughts rattling around my brain. I won’t lie I did debate on turning tail and running, running straight back to London, back to my own manor. At least in London I could turn up at Pansy’s house and have her stroke my hair and coo at me, alas I am not that stupid to go running straight back into Umbridge’s clutches. Despite what I actually wanted to think, I am a lot safer in Mexico with the wizarding world's boy wonder, than probably anywhere else in the world. 

Slightly befuddled, I turned and entered the room I had chosen as my own for the period of time that I’d be in Potter Manor. I’m not sure what kind of preconceived notion I had for what the room would look like but it was absolutely not what I was expecting. 

Front and centre of the room sat a huge four poster bed with white sheets and white curtains, the wood it was made from was dark and intricately carved in a pattern that I was too far away to discern. There was a door in the corner of the room which I was assuming led to a bathroom, a wardrobe made of the same wood as the bed sat against the left wall, Victorian sconces lined the upper portions of the walls too. There were shelves along the right wall, empty, the room  was oddly bare actually. There was a huge window which I’m assuming overlooked the grounds the Manor sat on with a seat attached, it would be perfect for reading. 

I walked across the pale wooden floor towards the bed, the sheets were crisp, white cotton, and that design I’d seen on the posts turned out to be coiling snakes. Considering the amount of snakes in Mexico, thinking about it, it’s no surprise that Potter ended up being a parcel mouth, the chances of it being genetic are high. I flopped myself onto the extraordinarily comfortable bed and lay staring at the white canopy.

Potter is different, there’s something definitely unsettling about him now compared to the last time I saw him. I thought when we were in the trial chambers that it was confidence, he’d never been confident during school. I thought it was that since he had defeated one of the most powerful wizards the world had ever seen at seventeen years old. Now that I’ve spent some time with him I’m almost convinced it isn’t just confidence, sure he holds himself taller now, and he doesn’t try to keep his voice silenced, actually he reminds me of a true pureblood now. But there’s something else, something more to it. Then there’s the physical differences to this Potter in comparison to the one in my memories. This Potter’s hair is darker, throwing off a blue hue in sunlight compared to the dark, warm, brownish red tones it used to be. The skin I could see virtually glowed golden with health, like he’s got a lot of sunlight recently, compared to the sickly pallor he was in school. His body, from what I can see, is stronger, no-longer thin and knobby but more like a panther, all lean muscle and coiled power waiting to strike. His smile is sharper, sort of unnaturally sharp actually but, it’s still crooked when he really does smile but I saw it when he smiled at Umbridge, how it was more threat than a smile. It’s his eyes though, they’re wrong. Instead of the colour of fresh spring, green and pale and full of life, of goodness almost  they’re emerald. Like expensive polished emeralds with a flicker of something behind them, set between his lids lined with thick dark lashes, that seems so much thicker than they were. They were unnerving, he looked like Potter but not, those emerald eyes held something akin to a beast writhing beneath his skin. There was still a type of light in those eyes, something that flickered, something that reminded me that it was Potter that I’m looking at, not someone I met in a dark alley, but it was overshadowed. Overshadowed by something that was drawing me in like a moth to a flame or like shark to blood, something that screamed danger. 

Potter was dangerous, he always had been, right from being an eleven year old entering Hogwarts years ago. At the time I thought it was the goodness in him, the hope and the way he made people want to do the right thing. Now I know it’s not that, or at least not that alone. I saw it during the war, Potter is charismatic, he’s determined and driven and cunning, ambitious even, it’s a wonder he wasn’t sorted into Slytherin. He’s the type of person that people call a born leader but I don’t think that’s the case with him, Potter was not born to lead, not really he was forced too. I was always so jealous, jealous of his fame, of his ability to capture a room until today. Until I was sitting in that chair, chained to it, watching him throw his fame around in order to save his schoolyard bully. Today was when I noticed that Potter didn’t need his fame, he used it to his advantage when he needed too but he didn’t need it not really, not when people were so happy to feed him information that he could later use against them, and simply trusting him not too. 

I shook my head attempting to clear it from the thoughts of Potter, the boy I thought I knew. I’m assuming I must have fallen asleep between one breath and the next since the next thing I knew I was waking to the low morning sun blaring in my eyes. I blinked, the surroundings unfamiliar, the warmth I was feeling unfamiliar after spending weeks in the Azkaban holding cell. Potter Manor, Mexico that’s where I am, then the previous day’s events came flooding back to me all at once. Potter had kidnapped me, right out of the ministry and brought me here. Well at least it's sunny I guess, not raining like it usually is in London. I sat up and stretched and then figured I would go explore the manor, going off the architecture it looks like it’s stood for many years which if Malfoy Manor is anything to go off there’s bound to be more to it than meets the eye. 

I made use of the bathroom, standing under the warm spray of the water for maybe just a touch too long before eventually toweling off, brushing the tangles out of my hair and pawing through the dressers for well anything. I was Surprised to say the least, the drawers of the dresser were full, brand new clothing still in packages, the wardrobe was the same. I dressed quickly, ending up wearing unfortunately comfortable pants that I'm sure the muggles call joggers and a hoodie, both in exactly the same shade of grey. I didn’t bother with shoes, simply shoved a reinforcement charm on the socks I was wearing and padded out of the room. 

Somehow in the morning light Potter Manor looked even more charming than it had done yesterday, I’d thought that the hallway leading to the bedrooms was artificially lit yesterday but it turns out it's more like a bridge with rooms hanging off every so often. That's what I get for not looking closer yesterday I guess. Big oval windows were evenly spaced down the hall, some of them were stained glass, enchanted to move. One was a unicorn, it snorted at me as I walked by, another was a dragon, it opened one sleepy eye and blew a puff of smoke at me. The third, which was at nearly the bottom of the hall where a singular door stood on its own, isolated from the others was a basilisk, huge and coiling around itself too many times to count. It opened one yellow eye and looked at me, almost looked through me really. I forced myself to look away and focus my attention on the big black door standing on its own, what in merlin's sock could be behind that door? 

I took a deep breath and walked towards the ominous door. I placed my hand on the handle, it was cool and made of what I'm assuming is solid iron, probably in an effort to nullify anyone attempting to unlock it with magic. I turned the knob, the door clicked, Unlocked. I expected it to be locked, to be hiding something nefarious, and yet… When i pushed the door open and revealed the inside I found that it wasn’t something nefarious, or evil or well anything that I had learnt to expect when living in Malfoy Manor, instead it was a potions room. 

Sitting front and centre was a black cauldron, over a potioneers bench. I stepped inside the room, the walls were lined with ingredients behind wards that looked almost like glass cabinets. There was a shelf lined with books, books on potions, recipe books, books on potion ingredients. It was something I thought that Snape would have jizzed in his pants over, it was nothing short of a masterpiece. The walls looked enchanted, glimmering in the low light, almost like stars in the night sky. Maybe I should have thought about it before I did it but my feet moved on their own accord so that I could reach out and press my fingers to the walls, they weren’t enchanted. At least not in the traditional sense, they were like the duelling room walls, made entirely of magic absorbing obsidian and those silver glimmers were iron, running like veins throughout the walls. 

It was beautiful. 

However, as much as i wanted to sit and read through the books, to make a couple quick potions just to prove that i can still do it, there is more house to explore. I closed the door quietly and pattered back up the hall, I’d left my bedroom door open, just incase Potter was bothered over my sleeping habits Or atleast i told myself that instead of the fact that i wanted Potter to know that i was wandering the house, that i’d left the room and he would have to come find me. I stood at the top of the stairs, debating whether to go up or down. It seemed more prudent to work downwards, so up to the top floor it would have to be. I trekked up the stairs Potter had mentioned that there should only be four floors, the top one being a greenhouse, or a garden or something. Knowing everything I know about magical houses I knew it wouldn’t be just four floors, it was more likely that the Manor was responding to Potter himself and how any more than four floors would be too much for just one or maybe two people. I reached the garden, or well the door to the garden, greenhouse, plant place, the door was identical to the doors on the first floor really. The handle was golden, maybe painted? I touched it, Nope solid gold. Merlins fuzzy pubes. Just like the potions room it wasn’t locked, not even warded, it opened easily and without any noise of protest as I walked inside and beheld exactly what Potter was talking about.

The top floor, or the current top floor was something of a park more than a greenhouse or a garden really. Giant ebony trees basically everywhere which explained the dark wood doors and flooring and beds, the grass was as tall as my knees, flowers dotted in random patches. It looked like there might be a pond or something sitting in the centre, something was definitely there but I wasn't about to risk life and limb to satiate that particular curiosity kitten. Actually with some work I could picture this place being the perfect escape for someone stuck inside an old house. The sky appeared to be charmed, or maybe it was genuinely the sky and I’d been staring at the stained glass for way longer than I’d initially thought. I didn’t linger for long, it’s a very large house after all and as previously mentioned I'm not willing to risk my life or limbs to go traipsing through the mud. 

I closed the door gently and pattered my way down to the third floor. The library. 

Merlin’s wrinkly cock If Granger was here she would never leave, it’s almost like a pocket dimension. It does however prove me right in my idea that the house is hiding things since the library alone has four floors that I can see in the dim morning light. Easily overpowering the Hogwarts library, there must be every book ever written in here, and clearly it’s enchanted to expand when more books are added. Bookcases line the area, I walk further in, through the stacks, inhaling the smell of parchment and ink and knowledge. It seemingly goes on forever, line upon line of shelves, crammed with books of every kind. I must be roughly midway when I notice the little sitting area. I had expected leather but nope, it appeared to be a fabric very comfortable looking couch and two oversized arm chairs. Set in the middle was another ebony table, with a folded blanket on top with a note. 

I snatched the note off the table, what can I say I’m a nosy fucker. 

Malfoy, 

Welcome to Potter Library, figured you’d find your way here at some point. 

Make yourself at home , the library is enchanted to collect every published book that’s been written by either magical or muggle authors. 

Yes, impressive I know. 

Hermione made me do it. 

- H.P. 

Well I guess that settles that, the library might be my favourite room so far. I wandered further into the space, desperate to see if there was anything else in here other than books. I did eventually get to the back of the library, there was, you guessed it, more books. I debated going up the winding stairs to see the other floors. It was about then when my stomach grumbled and I decided the opposite. Kitchen, where the fuck is the kitchen? I snagged a muggle looking romance book from a shelf that had an apple on the front and padded back in the direction I came from. 

Out the library, 

Close the door, 

Go down the stairs,

Make my way back to the entryway,

Where the fuck is it? 

Maybe it’s because it looks different, maybe it’s because it’s an unfamiliar place but I absolutely could not find the kitchen. I found a bathroom, a games room, a dining room, a cozy looking sitting room, but no fucking kitchen. 

I was standing in the entryway again, staring at the doors, tapping my foot on the floor when I heard movement. Standing on the stairs, clad in only what appeared to be pyjama bottoms was Potter. 

My mouth watered. 

I was right. He is all long lines and lean muscle and tan skin. A small dusting of what looks like dark hair spattered on his chest, Since when did Potter have an 8 pack set of abs? And those biceps? Fuck. His hair was over his face, shadowing his features into something mysterious and if I wasn't already attracted to him I would have been done for the second I saw him open his mouth and heard him speak in that sleepy gruff voice. 

“Are you lost Malfoy?” Great fucking merlin on a broom 

“I…” 

“What are you looking for?” He scrubbed a hand through his curls, green eyes finally meeting mine and it was like everything imploded.