The Power of a Wish
Prologue and Chapter One
*...* indicates emphasis on a word.
'...' indicates thought
'''...''' indicates imperio thought talking (the command) *************
Author's Note before you start- the reason prologue and chapter One are together is prologue is much to short to be a whole chapter! Happy Reading!
Oh yes! One more thing! I like to do random quotes before and after the story! Just be prepared!
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"Come on Harry! We haven't got all day! It closes at 7:00! You hurry up too Ron!" Hermione's voice rang down the empty halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Grudgingly, Harry and Ron both picked up their pace and caught up to one of their best friends, the other being for Harry Ron, and vice-versa.
As Hermione swept ahead, her black school robes flew on either side of her like a pair of dark wings. Her boots clacked loudly on the stone corridor floors.
"Why us?" muttered Ron to Harry, looking up the hall at Hermione who was now a good fifteen feet in front of them.
Hiding a smile at the look on Ron's face that spoke of misery and suffering, Harry just shrugged and continued to follow their bushy haired friend.
The three fifth year Gryffindors had left their warm and cozy common room to venture the cold and drafty halls to a very important destination..... *The library*.
It was two days into winter break and all of the students had gone home for the holidays. Well, save for the Golden Trio, Fred and George, Ginny, a third and sixth year from Ravenclaw, a fourth year from Slytherin, and two second years from Hufflepuff.
Hermione's parents had decided to go to France, just like a few years before, but Hermione politely declined, wanting to stay and keep her friends company.
The Weasley parents had gone to Romania to visit Charlie with Percy and Bill. The other children had opted to stay at Hogwarts.
Harry had not gone back because why would he want to live with the Dursley's more than he needed to?
Being fifth years, O.W.L. 's (Ordinary Wizarding Level) were coming up in the near spring. The teachers had assigned them *a ton* of homework over break. The smartest witch at Hogwarts wanted to get a head start and was dragging Ron and Harry along with her.
The boys looked out a passing window longingly. Instead of being in a musty old library working, they should be out on the grounds having a snowball fight. Or visiting Dobby in the kitchens. Or drinking hot chocolate. Or...... The list went on and on.
But neither boy could deny it. The teachers *had* assigned a boatload of homework.
In charms class, Professor Flitwick had given them, as a Christmas present, an eight-foot essay on the properties of a good camouflage spell and what its main uses were.
Snape had assigned them a six-foot essay on the Draught of Living Death and a seven-foot essay on the reactions of Tiger claw.
Professor McGonagall had told them to practice on transforming items into mittens and an essay to do on the spell.
Professor Sinstra had handed out several star charts that needed to be labeled, *correctly.*
Trelawny had assigned diaries that the students had to right down everything that they'd done that day. Then, they had to use Unfogging the Future to decipher their days meaning.
Hermione had some ancient runes work and Hagrid had assigned nothing at all.
At the door to the libriary Hermione stood tapping her foot impatiently for the red haired and the black haired boys.
The Golden Trio was just about to enter, when a pull around their navels grabbed them, much like a portkey feeling, and they disappeared.
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Prolouge is over! Yeah! I got it all typed!
"The probelm is, I can't remember what I've forgotten."
-Neville Longbottom
I have been quoting that all day in a pretty good imitation of Neville's voice! And there it is, my first totally random quote! Neville and I have something in common (maybe that's why I luv him! lol!), we both forget a lot. Today, I forgot my IMEA scales in my locker! AHHHHHH!!!!
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Now if you've forgotten or skipped the beginning, here comes Chapter One!
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Chapter One
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The black cordlike rope lashed down again on the pale boy's unprotected back, bringing fourth a cry of anguish as the whip broke through the skin, sending a rivulet of blood dripping down his back.
Another hit, another cry. The torturous cycle continued, slowly, but gradually, wearing down the boy, but yet he didn't cry. Not one tear escaped from his silver blue eyes. Not one.
Thirty-seven.
Thirty-Eight.
Thirty-nine.
The only way to hold himself concious was to not think about the pain. Simply push it to the back of the mind and hope it would stay there, in that dark, unwanted corner. Counting the lashes helped, it was the only way.
Forty-nine.
Fifty.
Little black dots swam in the youth's vision, calling to him to just let the pain consume him, to find peace. But no. His body might go down, but no way would his spirit.
A few seconds later, a releived sensation came from his upper torso. The pain was still there, but the hiss of the whip had stopped. But the relief was short lived.
A well placed kick caught him in his stomach, and he rolled up, trying to protect himself from the onslaught. But to no avail.
Blows rained down upon his slim form, each turning the whitish skin to red purple and blue.
The familiar taste of blood escaped his lips, as a particulary well placed kick hit him right below the rib cage. He now lay curled on the floor, his knees drawn up to his chest, his face downwards, trying to escape this vile creature, this man, who called himself the boy's father.
His silver blond hair cascadedover his eyes and he was not surprised to see red droplets sprinkling each strand.
A hand grabbed his face and pulled it roughly upwards, so that he was looking at the man responible for this pain.
The man's thumb gently caressed the boy's cheek, soft as a dove's wing, the skin not yet marred.
"Why, my Dragon? Why?" The man spoke, his voice gentle, yet holding deadly malice. "Why must you make me do this to you? Why my Dragon?"
The young Slytherin kept silent, his eyes never leaving those of his father, refusing to back down or show fear.
"DAMN YOU DRACO!" The older Malfoy pulled his hand into a fist and rammed it into his son's face, causing him to fly out of his grasp and fly backwards, his head hitting the stone wall with a thud.
Draco wished he could get out, to submit to the pain, to float through a wonderful black void where no feeling or thought existed. But he would never back down to anyone. He would never go down without a fight.
'Please....someone......help....me....'
The black specks swam in front of his eyes, but stubbornly he refused their call. He would fight to the end, he would not lose.
"You know Draco," purred Lucius, gliding over to the fallen boy. "I could stop...... You'd like that wouldn't you?"
No response came from the bloodied youth.
"ANSWER ME!"
"..."
"DAMMIT! IMPERIO!"
A little voice entered Draco's mind. It was soft and gentle, seeming to tell him it would do all the deciding. He had nothing to worry about...
'"Draco.... just say yes..... say yes..... say yes....."'
'No! Can't let'
'''Yes..."'
'Father win.....'
"'Yes.... Yes...'''
'But I can't ignore it...'
'"Yes.... Just answer yes Draco."' The whispery voice grew cold, the safe feeling retreating.
Draco felt his mouth forming into a shape.
'NO!'
"Yes." His voice was dull and monotone, a result of the imperius curse, and at once the presence of the guiding voice disappeared, as its call had been answered.
"You want me to stop Dragon?"
Vision blurring, Draco shook his head.
"No? Prehaps you just need a little more...... influencing."
Another cry escaped Draco's lips and was joined in by a dull cracking noise.
"Why, Dragon! I do believe I just broke one of your ribs!" Lucius said in mock surprise. His voice then grew more menacing, but still with a light tease to it. "Let's try that again..."
Lucius raised his right foot and kicked his son square in the chest. And thus, the pain continued.
"Dragon." Lucius knelt down next to the boy, carefully minding that his robes didn't get blood on them. He once again cupped Draco's chin in his hand. "Just cry for me Dragon. Is that so much to ask for? Just cry for me...."
Draco glared at his father, although it was really more of a wince. His father could do whatever he wanted to him. He could make him bleed, plead for mercy, scream, anything. But he could never make him cry. A tear would never escape from his eyes. Because he didn't cry.
Sick of listening to the silence that enshrouded the small dungeon cell, Lucius smacked his son, leaving a large red print on his cheek. "Now cry!"
"No." His voice was soft, barely above a whisper, yet it still held defiance.
"What did you say?" Lucius's voice bordered on the edge of rage.
"I said no."
"Why you-" Lucius dropped the boy's head and it hit the ground. And he began to hurt Draco even more. Just to see him cry. Well, among other things.
To see him cry, the one thing he could not make his son do. For never winning a quidditch match against Potter. For always being beated in classes by the mudblood, Hermione Granger. To being a failure in his father's eyes.
Like lightning the blows came, each striking directly after the last one, leaving no time to breathe.
Angry swirls of blackness were fogging up Draco's vision, yet he stayed concious.
'Please....... someone...... anyone...............somebody......help.....................me. Someone........I can...........trust.'
A flash of gold appeared in his vision and then everything went black. But then colors swam back into view, pictures were formed, and the torment began anew.
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"Get off my foot Ron!"
"You're squishing me Harry! Roll over!"
The three Gryffindors were lying in a crumpled heap, a mass of tangled arms and legs.
Harry got up first and held out his hand to help Hermione up.
"Bloody hell..... where are we?" Ron was looking around the hall the trio now found themselves in.
One could easily see it was a Dark Arts house. They were standing on a velvety red carpet that ran down the center of the hall. Shrunken house elf heads adorned the walls, each wearing a grim expression. Paintings of witches and wizards that specialized in the Drak Arts hung on the walls. But something was alike in each of those photos...
Each of the photos contained a man or woman, all with the same plantanium blond hair that their arch rival had.
"I know where we are," piped up Hermione in a small voice. We're in Malfoy's house...
"How'd we get here?" Harry was looking around for a door when they heard footsteps approaching, at a hurried pace, headed straight for them.
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"NO!" Draco's yell echoed around the dungeon, as he flew backwards again and slammed into the wall. "I'll never do it!"
"You will Draco, you will..."
Draco tiredly glared up at his father, all strength had left him. Yet his eyes were wary, watching his father's every move.
"Son. All I want you to do is cry."
"Never!"
"Then we'll skip on to the next request. YOU WILL BECOME ONE OF US!"
"No I won't! I don't want to be a fuckin' deatheater! I won't join!"
"YES YOU WILL!" Lucius picked Draco up by his hair and wrenched him to his feet, pulling him forward a bit. "You will do as I tell you Draco. I am your father and you must obey *me*."
"I will never.... join your cause." Draco's voice was calm and he sounded like someone without a care in the world. He would never let his father see he was shaking inside, scared.... no terrified... of how much power this man had.
"Oh yes you will...."
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"What do we do!" Ron panic whispered to the group.
"Hide!" Harry whispered back.
The three seperated and ran to seperate areas of the hall. Hermione went under a table, Ron next to a tall clock, and Harry behind a door.
A woman with the same hair as Draco entered the room. Harry recignoized her as Draco's mother from the Quidditch World Cup. She wore a long satiny emerald green dress with her hair up in a bun, a few tendrils next to her face. She was beautiful!
Narcissa Malfoy gave a small smile and went immideately over to the table in which Hermione cowered under. Narcissa reached under and pulled Hermione out by the back of her sweater and the girl gave a frightened squeak.
"If you don't want any harm to come to your friend," said Narcissa, pulling Hermione to her feet and forcing her to stand in front of her, "You'd best come out now*.
The two boys moved out of their hiding places and looked at Narcissa. What would happen when she got her husband?
"Now," said Narcissa, loosening her grip on Hermione's shoulder a tad, "How did you get through the gates?"
"We just kind of appeared here," spoke Harry.
"Uh huh. Well in case you didn't know, Potter, this manor can not be accessed by aparation except for Lucius and a select few. As for floo powder, it only works in the kitchen, Now how did you get here?"
"It's like what Harry told you," said Hermione, her voice frightened. "We were walking down the hall at Hogwarts when we found ourselves here..."
"What about a portkey?"
"We didn't touch anything."
Narcissa looked them over for a few seconds. "Believe it or not I believe you."
The three looked at her, mouths agape, not beliving a Malfoy was going to show them mercy.
"You're Hermione Granger, am I correct?" asked Narcissa, looking down at the girl in front of her.
Hermione nodded.
"And you are Ron Weasley?"
"Yes Ma'am."
"Such a polite boy... And you must be Harry Potter.
Welcome, to Malfoy Manor!"
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"Please..... Father.....stop...."
"Why? You said you didn't want me to earlier. Besides, I find this rather enjoyable." Lucius gave Draco a hard kick to his upper back. "But I think it's time we try something..... different. I remember how much you loved it last time...
Lucius reached into his robes and came out with his wand. "Remember this Draco? Hmmmmm.....? Let's see how you do this time... CRUCIO!"
Draco screamed and rolled into a small ball. It felt like liquid fire coursing through his vein, tearing his very heart to shreds. Points of pain, much like a tip of a dagger, seemed to pierce his skin.
Lucius raised the wand and Draco lay on the floor panting, gasping for air.
"That wasn't so bad, was it? Let's try again! Crucio!" This time he spoke it almost lazily, knowing it would enrage his child even more that he was acting like it didn't matter. But it actually really didn't. This was just a good way to get some release.
"You do know Draco, I'm going to do this until you cry. Crucio."
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"Hurry, come with me. But be *very* quiet."
The trio glanced at each other, all wondering where Mrs. Malfoy, who'd told them to call her Narcissa, was taking them. They had no choice but to follow.
She led them up a flight of dark colored stairs and down a hallway that was dark and quiet. After passing several doors, she stopped at one and pushed it open. The trios mouth's hung open in shock.
The room was gigantic, like most of the mansion's room. Green covers lay onthe bed and emerald drapes were pulled over the window. A large dresser and mirror sat against one wall and a wardrobe lay across the way. The carpet was a lucious green and the walls were a lighter shade of emerald.
Narcissa went over to the wardrobe and beckoned them towards it. Hermione was amazed. Whoever owned this room must live like a king!
She pulled open the door to reveal robes, all black, hanging in a neat orderly fashion. She entered it and went to the back where she tapped on the wall until a dull ring was heard.
With a grim smile, Narcissa pulled on the hidden metal ring. The wall was pulled forwards and a hidden room was revealed. Narcissa beckoned for the Gryffindors to go in.
"Where are we?" asked Ron, staring around the quaint little room.
Upon their arrival a fire had immideately started warming the room instantly. Red plush armchairs sat around the fire and a couch sat across from the chairs. A rug lay in the middle and a coffee table on top of that. Bookshelves full of books lined the walls and cups of warm butterbeer sat on the table, having just appeared.
"This," said Narcissa, gesturing around the room, "Is the Hidden Room."
"Hidden Room?" Hermione looked at the older woman, questions sparkling in her eyes.
"Yes. Draco and myself use it at times."
"If you don't mind me asking," said Hermione, "Who's room did we pass through?"
"Oh.... That was Draco's room."
"My, he lives like a king!"
"That's what you all think," said Narcissa sadly.
Harry turned to the wife of Lucius. "What do you mean Narcissa?"
"I'm just saying Draco's life, his real life, isn't at all what it seems." Then her voice took on a cheery tone. Why don't you all sit down and have some butterbeer?"
The three took their seats. Hermione and Ron collapsed on the couch and Harry took a plush chair. Narcissa primly sat herself down in a rocking chair and began to sway backwards and forwards slowly.
They all sat in silence for several minutes, the only sounds the dull clanks of butterbeer mugs being set back down on the table.
"I wonder if he's alright....." Narcissa mused quietly, seeming to have forgotten that she had visitors. She reached into her dress pocket and came out with a locket.
The locket was beautiful. It was an ornate gold in the shape of a circle with trimming curving gracefully into the shape of a golden rose on the front.
Narcissa held it to her heart for a second and then opened it, with a little hesitance. At once, Lucius Malfoy's voice came into the room.
"Have you had enough? Ready to submit?"
Narcissa gave a little gasp and closed her eys. The trio could only assume that she was seeing her husband, kind of like a television.
"ANSWER ME BOY!" The crack of a whip was heard and a small cry.
"No Lucius, please.... stop." Tears were streaming down Narcissa's face, making her appear to be a fallen angel, a sad angel.
The voice of Lucius came back. "You will never amount to anything Dragon. It is better that I end your pitful life now."
"No....." Narcissa's eyes were glued to the screen. "Don't do it Lucius.... please...." Narcissa longed to tear her gaze from the screen, but at the same time she wanted to be there for her son, even though he couldn't see or hear her.
Lucius raised his wand and held it positioned to hit the bleeding boy on the floor. "Avada," he hissed, "Kervada!"
Narcissa screamed but kept her eyes on the locket. The trio was exchanging worried glances. Who had just been murdered by Lucius Malfoy.
Lucius's voice came back on. "Next time Dragon, it'll be your head." Narcissa sighed in relief, Lucius had hit the wall next to Draco.
"I don't feel like doing this anymore." He kicked his son's head and watched as the boy's eyes closed.
Lucius then snapped his fingers and at once two houselves appeared next to him. "Bring him to his room."
The houselves bobbed their heads. "Yes Master. Grint and Misso do it Sir." They put their hands lightly on Draco's arms and disappeared.
"Thank Merlin he's alright." Narcissa placed one hand over her heart and breathed a sigh of relief. Then snapping the locket shut and placing it back in her pocket.
"Ummm.....Narcissa? Who's alright?"
"Goodness!" She jumped to her feet. "I had forgotten you were here!"
"Who's alright?" Harry asked again.
"Draco thank Merlin!"
"Malfoy?" said three voices in unison, not sure they'd heard right.
"Yes, Draco. You three stay here. *Do not* leave this room, understand?"
Three heads nodded.
"Good." Narcissa glided out of the room, shutting the door behind her with a soft click.
"Malfoy? What the bloody hell was happening?" Ron scrathced his head, bewildered from the recent events.
"Do you think something happened to Malfoy?" asked Hermione, a slight edge of worry to her voice.
"Why should we care? He's a git and never cared for us before."
"Mione's got a point Ron. What was happening?"
The group sat in silence, each trying to come up with a solution to the question.
Sudden;y, a loud pop was heard and something appeared on the coffee table in front of Harry. It was a brownish green with large ears. About ten tea cozys were on it's head and two different colored socks, one red the other yellow, adorned his feet.
"Dobby?"
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