Disclaimer: JKR’s world of Harry Potter is not mine, nor is the song Red and Black, it’s from Les Miserables, the musical.
A World about to Dawn
Red and Black
An eerie glow came from the fireplace of the Slytherin common room. Surrounding it, in various languid poses sat the upper echelon of Slytherin males. None had had any contact over the summer, due to their fathers’ chosen occupations, and now they were catching up as only Slytherins can do. Their talk was not of Seaside vacations or European tours, that was far too dull and happened every summer anyway. They were sharing stories about muggle-baiting and demonstrating newly learnt curses. They bragged, with relish, of the upcoming war and their Dark Lord’s rise to power.
Malfoy, you’re late, what’s wrong today?
You look as if you’ve touched a ghost.
Draco had entered through the portrait hole in a daze. His carefully honed arrogant demeanor had fallen from his face, revealing a look of confusion and melancholy.
Blaise Zabini strode down the stairs from his dormitory, joining the group. Upon hearing the last of Montague’s comment, he stopped at the bottom of the steps and shouted to Goyle, and then turning to face Malfoy, called out a question.
Some wine, and say what’s going on?
Draco made his way to the noble assemblage and rested his lanky form against the mantle, with his back towards his fellows. He spoke to the granite wall in front of him as he answered quietly.
A ghost you say, a ghost may be.
She was just like a ghost to me.
One minute there and she was gone.
Theodore raised his head from his glass and chuckled.
I am agog, I am aghast. Is Draco here, in love at last?
He rolled his eyes in the direction of the forlorn figure near the fire. His expression mocking the young Malfoy heir.
I’ve never seen him ‘oooohhh and aaaahhhhh’.
Blaise took up the taunt. His eyes gleamed with mischief, and his straight, pearly teeth grinned wickedly in the firelight. Swirling his wine, he spoke.
You talk of battles to be won,
And here he comes like Don Ju-an.
It’s better than the op-er-a.
Draco shrugged off their teasing, taking it in stride, and joined the group and their evil machinations. He accepted a glass and a chair, and did what was expected of him, as the heir to the House of Malfoy and a young servant to the Dark Lord. He listened with ease as his compatriots gleefully told of their summer exploits. Although, Draco remained aloof and silent during the banter, he left for his room only after they had all trickled up to their own. That night his dreams rebelled. They were filled with a crimson- haired sprite that danced and laughed around him as he travelled through his dream world, instead of the plots of terror and revenge that the fellows in the common room had spoken of.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Severus Snape paced in the antechamber of his dungeon study. He despised what he was about to do. He wished, not for the first time, that he had never made that terrible mistake twenty-one years ago. He was still paying for it, and he would never allow himself his own redemption. The cost of his error had been too great to ever atone for. And now, he was encouraging the young men of his own House to make that same mistake. He was under orders, and therefore he had no choice in the matter. But he hated to see such a group of clever young men destroyed as he had been.
His study clock chimed the hour and he went to meet the new casualties.
They were all waiting for him, looking dignified and far too mature for their age, seated on the leather couches that furnished his study.
He decided that petty conversation was useless. They knew why they were here. He spoke critically to them.
It is time for us all to decide who we are.
He glared at Zabini and his pearly teeth.
Do we fight for the right for a night at the opera now?
He looked back at the whole assembly and asked them cryptically.
Have you asked of yourselves, what’s the price you might pay?
Then, he snarled at Nott, who was fiddling with his signet ring.
Is it simply a game for rich, young boys to play?
Snape’s gaze fell upon Malfoy, who was sitting farthest from him. Malfoy met his mentor’s eyes, speaking quietly in the echoing silence of the room.
The colour of the world is changing day by day.
The boys left soon after their little pep talk. Looking serious, though eager. Snape noticed that the young Malfoy heir let his hard expression slip, momentarily, of course, but it was enough to give Snape hope. Perhaps not all will be forced to suffer as I have. He may be right; the colour of the world will change.
Red, the blood of angry men.
Black, the dark of ages past.
Red, a world about to dawn.
Black, the night that ends at last.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
They all met the evening after everyone got back from Christmas holidays. Their purpose was similar to what it had been right after school started but this time it had an added element to it. Those that went home had gotten to go to their first Death Eater meeting. Draco noticed the lusty gleam in their eyes as they sat around the fire.
Draco had not gone home. Over the past term he had been haunted by his crimson-haired sprite. Her laughter tinkled in his ears, her flickering smiles were there every time he closed his eyes. It was an obsession, a compulsion and a permutation.
He listened as Montague’s voice carried the tale to those that had not been fortunate enough to go home.
Had you been there that night, you might know how it feels.
Draco watched as a look of greed overtook the young wizard’s face.
To be struck to the bone in a moment of endless delight.
Draco knew why Montague was so gleeful, the Death Eaters had let him finish off the muggle they had been torturing. His first victim. An insatiable lust of power had been born into him in that moment. He would never be the same again.
Had you been there that night, you might also have known.
How the world may be changed in just one burst of light.
Draco grew sick of the tale. Something was wrong with him. His world had changed. Why couldn’t he feel more like them anymore? He sighed to himself, gently placing his glass of Ogden’s on a side table and getting up to go.
And what was right seemed wrong
He climbed through the portrait hole and began to pace through the corridors until he found her.
And what was wrong seemed right.
Red, I feel my soul on fire.
Black, my world if she’s not there.
Red, the colour of desire.
Black, the colour of despair.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
It was a warm June night, but he couldn’t tell from where he sat at the scrubbed pine table in the kitchen basement of Number 12, Grimmauld Place. Severus sat across from him, Dumbledore beside him. Only Ginny knew he was here.
Draco, you’re no longer a child.
Snape spoke forcibly to him. Dumbledore tried to ease the situation.
I do not doubt you mean it well, but know there is a higher call.
Draco rolled up his sleeve and glanced at the smooth skin of his forearm. Tracing the veins with his fingertips, he wondered what his crimson-haired sprite would think of all this. It would put her in danger. And he didn’t want that.
Severus broke into his thoughts.
Who cares about your lonely soul,
we strive towards a larger goal.
Draco looked up at him and Snape added softly as he passed Draco a white mask and a Death Eater’s robe.
Our little lives don’t count at all.
Draco took it from him, because he must, and he knew it. It would all be over soon, that’s what she always told him. And he believed her, because he loved her.
Red, the blood of angry men.
Black, the dark of ages past.
And once it was over, he would live happily ever after with his crimson- haired sprite.
Red, a world about to dawn.
They would be accepted once the war was over. Everyone would understand.
Black, the night that ends at last.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Thanks for Reading, please review, oh and there's more to come! - sweetp
Red and Black
An eerie glow came from the fireplace of the Slytherin common room. Surrounding it, in various languid poses sat the upper echelon of Slytherin males. None had had any contact over the summer, due to their fathers’ chosen occupations, and now they were catching up as only Slytherins can do. Their talk was not of Seaside vacations or European tours, that was far too dull and happened every summer anyway. They were sharing stories about muggle-baiting and demonstrating newly learnt curses. They bragged, with relish, of the upcoming war and their Dark Lord’s rise to power.
Malfoy, you’re late, what’s wrong today?
You look as if you’ve touched a ghost.
Draco had entered through the portrait hole in a daze. His carefully honed arrogant demeanor had fallen from his face, revealing a look of confusion and melancholy.
Blaise Zabini strode down the stairs from his dormitory, joining the group. Upon hearing the last of Montague’s comment, he stopped at the bottom of the steps and shouted to Goyle, and then turning to face Malfoy, called out a question.
Some wine, and say what’s going on?
Draco made his way to the noble assemblage and rested his lanky form against the mantle, with his back towards his fellows. He spoke to the granite wall in front of him as he answered quietly.
A ghost you say, a ghost may be.
She was just like a ghost to me.
One minute there and she was gone.
Theodore raised his head from his glass and chuckled.
I am agog, I am aghast. Is Draco here, in love at last?
He rolled his eyes in the direction of the forlorn figure near the fire. His expression mocking the young Malfoy heir.
I’ve never seen him ‘oooohhh and aaaahhhhh’.
Blaise took up the taunt. His eyes gleamed with mischief, and his straight, pearly teeth grinned wickedly in the firelight. Swirling his wine, he spoke.
You talk of battles to be won,
And here he comes like Don Ju-an.
It’s better than the op-er-a.
Draco shrugged off their teasing, taking it in stride, and joined the group and their evil machinations. He accepted a glass and a chair, and did what was expected of him, as the heir to the House of Malfoy and a young servant to the Dark Lord. He listened with ease as his compatriots gleefully told of their summer exploits. Although, Draco remained aloof and silent during the banter, he left for his room only after they had all trickled up to their own. That night his dreams rebelled. They were filled with a crimson- haired sprite that danced and laughed around him as he travelled through his dream world, instead of the plots of terror and revenge that the fellows in the common room had spoken of.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Severus Snape paced in the antechamber of his dungeon study. He despised what he was about to do. He wished, not for the first time, that he had never made that terrible mistake twenty-one years ago. He was still paying for it, and he would never allow himself his own redemption. The cost of his error had been too great to ever atone for. And now, he was encouraging the young men of his own House to make that same mistake. He was under orders, and therefore he had no choice in the matter. But he hated to see such a group of clever young men destroyed as he had been.
His study clock chimed the hour and he went to meet the new casualties.
They were all waiting for him, looking dignified and far too mature for their age, seated on the leather couches that furnished his study.
He decided that petty conversation was useless. They knew why they were here. He spoke critically to them.
It is time for us all to decide who we are.
He glared at Zabini and his pearly teeth.
Do we fight for the right for a night at the opera now?
He looked back at the whole assembly and asked them cryptically.
Have you asked of yourselves, what’s the price you might pay?
Then, he snarled at Nott, who was fiddling with his signet ring.
Is it simply a game for rich, young boys to play?
Snape’s gaze fell upon Malfoy, who was sitting farthest from him. Malfoy met his mentor’s eyes, speaking quietly in the echoing silence of the room.
The colour of the world is changing day by day.
The boys left soon after their little pep talk. Looking serious, though eager. Snape noticed that the young Malfoy heir let his hard expression slip, momentarily, of course, but it was enough to give Snape hope. Perhaps not all will be forced to suffer as I have. He may be right; the colour of the world will change.
Red, the blood of angry men.
Black, the dark of ages past.
Red, a world about to dawn.
Black, the night that ends at last.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
They all met the evening after everyone got back from Christmas holidays. Their purpose was similar to what it had been right after school started but this time it had an added element to it. Those that went home had gotten to go to their first Death Eater meeting. Draco noticed the lusty gleam in their eyes as they sat around the fire.
Draco had not gone home. Over the past term he had been haunted by his crimson-haired sprite. Her laughter tinkled in his ears, her flickering smiles were there every time he closed his eyes. It was an obsession, a compulsion and a permutation.
He listened as Montague’s voice carried the tale to those that had not been fortunate enough to go home.
Had you been there that night, you might know how it feels.
Draco watched as a look of greed overtook the young wizard’s face.
To be struck to the bone in a moment of endless delight.
Draco knew why Montague was so gleeful, the Death Eaters had let him finish off the muggle they had been torturing. His first victim. An insatiable lust of power had been born into him in that moment. He would never be the same again.
Had you been there that night, you might also have known.
How the world may be changed in just one burst of light.
Draco grew sick of the tale. Something was wrong with him. His world had changed. Why couldn’t he feel more like them anymore? He sighed to himself, gently placing his glass of Ogden’s on a side table and getting up to go.
And what was right seemed wrong
He climbed through the portrait hole and began to pace through the corridors until he found her.
And what was wrong seemed right.
Red, I feel my soul on fire.
Black, my world if she’s not there.
Red, the colour of desire.
Black, the colour of despair.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
It was a warm June night, but he couldn’t tell from where he sat at the scrubbed pine table in the kitchen basement of Number 12, Grimmauld Place. Severus sat across from him, Dumbledore beside him. Only Ginny knew he was here.
Draco, you’re no longer a child.
Snape spoke forcibly to him. Dumbledore tried to ease the situation.
I do not doubt you mean it well, but know there is a higher call.
Draco rolled up his sleeve and glanced at the smooth skin of his forearm. Tracing the veins with his fingertips, he wondered what his crimson-haired sprite would think of all this. It would put her in danger. And he didn’t want that.
Severus broke into his thoughts.
Who cares about your lonely soul,
we strive towards a larger goal.
Draco looked up at him and Snape added softly as he passed Draco a white mask and a Death Eater’s robe.
Our little lives don’t count at all.
Draco took it from him, because he must, and he knew it. It would all be over soon, that’s what she always told him. And he believed her, because he loved her.
Red, the blood of angry men.
Black, the dark of ages past.
And once it was over, he would live happily ever after with his crimson- haired sprite.
Red, a world about to dawn.
They would be accepted once the war was over. Everyone would understand.
Black, the night that ends at last.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Thanks for Reading, please review, oh and there's more to come! - sweetp
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