Disclaim: I don't own HP or Les Mis, but I like them... a lot.
A World about to Dawn
Drink With Me
The night after everyone returned from Easter Hols, the mood in the Slytherin common room became strangely jubilant. Initiation ceremonies had taken place over the weekend and now there were three extremely giddy young Slytherins draped on and around the couches and wing chairs of the room. There was also another Slytherin present as well, though decidedly less emotional. He was happy seeing his comrades so blissful, however, despite the reason for it.
Montague, he saw, was celebrating the only way he knew how; with a bottle.
Drink with me, today's gone by.
He got up and staggered over to where Zabini lounged by the fire.
Sing with me, the songs we knew!
Blaise rolled his eyes at his fellow's antics, 'songs my foot!', but he joined in nonetheless, his giddiness over-riding his pride. Raising his glass he sung bawdily.
Here's to pretty girls, who went to our heads!
Draco smirked back at his childhood friends, deciding to play along he replied with his own toast.
Here's to witty girls, who went to our beds!
Nott exploded in laughter at the quip. Draco looked around at his friends, feeling the guilt settle heavily upon his shoulders, it was just like old times, laughing and drinking; when the largest worry was an Arithmancy final or a Quidditch loss.
No one would have guessed that the foursome, who joked so nonchalantly around the hearth, now bore a permanent sign of devotion to a man bent on ruling the world. All bore the mark willingly, though only three took pride in it. The other had done it out of necessity; a traitor in their midst. But he played his role so well that no one saw through his façade. Loyalty was strong within Slytherin House, trust was implicit.
Nott, his laughter now reduced to a soft chuckle, spoke up.
Here's to them!
Draco glanced up over his glass at his friends. Men who were almost like brothers to him. How could they have chosen such a different path? Then again, how could he?
And here's to you...
They genuinely smiled at the blond after he had called out to them. They were embarking on a new era within the wizarding world together. That was the best part; together, they would help in bringing this new world to light.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The pressure on the young Malfoy heir was getting to him. When it became too much to bear, he looked to Severus for guidance. They met in his study, sitting on the very same leather couches where Snape had recruited the young men for the Dark Lord. Despite Snape's empathy with Draco's situation, the Potions Master often let his own bitterness seep into conversation. His traitorous life had left him alone and despised and he found it hard to encourage Draco along the same path, despite the slight differences in situation. Snape knew that Draco was in possession of someone's unswerving devotion and love, and he was envious of it.
On this night, Draco poured the brandy for both of them.
Drink with me, today's gone by.
Snape accepted the glass from the boy's shaking hand, questioning him.
Can it be, you fear to die?
The young man's fears rarely got the better of him. Unfortunately, to Draco's dismay, they had taken to manifesting themselves physically, which took much of his energy to control. He only let go of his control in front of his sprite and Severus. Both of them had enough tact to not mention it directly, well, most of the time.
Tonight had been difficult for Draco, his friends had toasted to women and glory, and they had seemed so full of purpose. Why should he feel so lost all of a sudden? He sighed into his drink.
Will the world remember you when you fall?
Snape had no answer for Draco. What did this life they were leading have to offer him? Nothing. No hero's funeral, no monument of glory. Snape had nothing to show for two decades of a double life. Children feared him or ridiculed him, adults always kept their distance.
Draco continued his listless questioning.
Could it be your death, means nothing at all?
No, no! Enough of this. This line of questioning never lead to answers that inspired one to keep their sanity. Snape ended his pupil's nattering queries with one of his own. Putting down his glass, he crossed over to the boy and clasped a worn hand on his shoulder.
Is your life, just one more life?
Draco cradled his head in his hands. He couldn't let this get to him anymore. He had been responsible for this fate. He had chosen the right path, not the easy one. Gods, why couldn't his friends have done the same. If only the world were different. If only he hadn't had to choose. His hand trembled as he picked up his glass.
Drink with me, today's gone by.
He slugged the drink back, ignoring the genteel protocol of his youth. He grimaced, as it hit the back of his throat. Holding out his glass for more, he toasted again, calling out sarcastically.
To the life, that used to be!
Snape looked down at the boy and felt his heart twist. Taking his glass away from him, he thought of the mountainous task that the boy, so like a son to him now, had to accomplish. Draco was to infiltrate the younger circle of Death Eaters, much as Snape was doing with the Inner Circle. But Snape was old and experienced while Draco was young and unsure. He would make so many painful mistakes. Severus offered Draco the best advice he could. Smirking evilly, mentor spoke to apprentice.
Let the shrine of friendship never say die.
Let the wine of friendship never run dry...
Snape lifted his drink, toasting them both. Traitors. Let them celebrate each other, as no one else would ever do it. If they did their job well, the side they fought for would despise them, and the side they despised would welcome them with open arms. Terribly ironic. Sniggering at the hopelessness of it all, he cheered.
Here's to you! And here's to me...
---------------------------------------------------------------
With the end of the school year, Draco found himself and his friends shipped off to the Serpent's Lair, a fraternity of Death Eaters. Once there, he quickly used his cunning and rose to the top of the social hierarchy and earned a cold but lavish room, as befit his station among the organization.
Deep in enemy territory, the pale-haired boy became lonely quickly. All the friends in the world could not equal the pleasure of one minute in the arms of his crimson-haired sprite. Her encouragement and her unselfish love urged him to continue this farce. But it was so hard to keep it up, when she as so far away.
Do I care if I should die, now that she is away from me?
The war couldn't last much longer. He hoped that by the end of summer it would be finished and he could enter his seventh year at Hogwarts just like every other year. The longer this cursed war continued, the harder it was to believe it was all worth it. Maybe the Cause wasn't real, maybe she wasn't even real. Could she have been a ghost like he had first imagined?
Life without Ginny, means nothing at all.
He could picture her face so well though. He could hear her laugh. He closed his eyes, picturing her smile. No, she must have been real once.
Would you weep Ginny, should your Draco fall?
He buried his head in his shaking hands as he sat, curled in the edge of his bed. A traitor in a den of snakes. Silent sobs wracked his frame.
Will you weep, Ginny, for me?
------ --- ------ ------ --- ------- ------ ---- ------- ---- -------
Author's etc: More to come, I promise. Review please, it makes me smile. -sweetp
Drink With Me
The night after everyone returned from Easter Hols, the mood in the Slytherin common room became strangely jubilant. Initiation ceremonies had taken place over the weekend and now there were three extremely giddy young Slytherins draped on and around the couches and wing chairs of the room. There was also another Slytherin present as well, though decidedly less emotional. He was happy seeing his comrades so blissful, however, despite the reason for it.
Montague, he saw, was celebrating the only way he knew how; with a bottle.
Drink with me, today's gone by.
He got up and staggered over to where Zabini lounged by the fire.
Sing with me, the songs we knew!
Blaise rolled his eyes at his fellow's antics, 'songs my foot!', but he joined in nonetheless, his giddiness over-riding his pride. Raising his glass he sung bawdily.
Here's to pretty girls, who went to our heads!
Draco smirked back at his childhood friends, deciding to play along he replied with his own toast.
Here's to witty girls, who went to our beds!
Nott exploded in laughter at the quip. Draco looked around at his friends, feeling the guilt settle heavily upon his shoulders, it was just like old times, laughing and drinking; when the largest worry was an Arithmancy final or a Quidditch loss.
No one would have guessed that the foursome, who joked so nonchalantly around the hearth, now bore a permanent sign of devotion to a man bent on ruling the world. All bore the mark willingly, though only three took pride in it. The other had done it out of necessity; a traitor in their midst. But he played his role so well that no one saw through his façade. Loyalty was strong within Slytherin House, trust was implicit.
Nott, his laughter now reduced to a soft chuckle, spoke up.
Here's to them!
Draco glanced up over his glass at his friends. Men who were almost like brothers to him. How could they have chosen such a different path? Then again, how could he?
And here's to you...
They genuinely smiled at the blond after he had called out to them. They were embarking on a new era within the wizarding world together. That was the best part; together, they would help in bringing this new world to light.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The pressure on the young Malfoy heir was getting to him. When it became too much to bear, he looked to Severus for guidance. They met in his study, sitting on the very same leather couches where Snape had recruited the young men for the Dark Lord. Despite Snape's empathy with Draco's situation, the Potions Master often let his own bitterness seep into conversation. His traitorous life had left him alone and despised and he found it hard to encourage Draco along the same path, despite the slight differences in situation. Snape knew that Draco was in possession of someone's unswerving devotion and love, and he was envious of it.
On this night, Draco poured the brandy for both of them.
Drink with me, today's gone by.
Snape accepted the glass from the boy's shaking hand, questioning him.
Can it be, you fear to die?
The young man's fears rarely got the better of him. Unfortunately, to Draco's dismay, they had taken to manifesting themselves physically, which took much of his energy to control. He only let go of his control in front of his sprite and Severus. Both of them had enough tact to not mention it directly, well, most of the time.
Tonight had been difficult for Draco, his friends had toasted to women and glory, and they had seemed so full of purpose. Why should he feel so lost all of a sudden? He sighed into his drink.
Will the world remember you when you fall?
Snape had no answer for Draco. What did this life they were leading have to offer him? Nothing. No hero's funeral, no monument of glory. Snape had nothing to show for two decades of a double life. Children feared him or ridiculed him, adults always kept their distance.
Draco continued his listless questioning.
Could it be your death, means nothing at all?
No, no! Enough of this. This line of questioning never lead to answers that inspired one to keep their sanity. Snape ended his pupil's nattering queries with one of his own. Putting down his glass, he crossed over to the boy and clasped a worn hand on his shoulder.
Is your life, just one more life?
Draco cradled his head in his hands. He couldn't let this get to him anymore. He had been responsible for this fate. He had chosen the right path, not the easy one. Gods, why couldn't his friends have done the same. If only the world were different. If only he hadn't had to choose. His hand trembled as he picked up his glass.
Drink with me, today's gone by.
He slugged the drink back, ignoring the genteel protocol of his youth. He grimaced, as it hit the back of his throat. Holding out his glass for more, he toasted again, calling out sarcastically.
To the life, that used to be!
Snape looked down at the boy and felt his heart twist. Taking his glass away from him, he thought of the mountainous task that the boy, so like a son to him now, had to accomplish. Draco was to infiltrate the younger circle of Death Eaters, much as Snape was doing with the Inner Circle. But Snape was old and experienced while Draco was young and unsure. He would make so many painful mistakes. Severus offered Draco the best advice he could. Smirking evilly, mentor spoke to apprentice.
Let the shrine of friendship never say die.
Let the wine of friendship never run dry...
Snape lifted his drink, toasting them both. Traitors. Let them celebrate each other, as no one else would ever do it. If they did their job well, the side they fought for would despise them, and the side they despised would welcome them with open arms. Terribly ironic. Sniggering at the hopelessness of it all, he cheered.
Here's to you! And here's to me...
---------------------------------------------------------------
With the end of the school year, Draco found himself and his friends shipped off to the Serpent's Lair, a fraternity of Death Eaters. Once there, he quickly used his cunning and rose to the top of the social hierarchy and earned a cold but lavish room, as befit his station among the organization.
Deep in enemy territory, the pale-haired boy became lonely quickly. All the friends in the world could not equal the pleasure of one minute in the arms of his crimson-haired sprite. Her encouragement and her unselfish love urged him to continue this farce. But it was so hard to keep it up, when she as so far away.
Do I care if I should die, now that she is away from me?
The war couldn't last much longer. He hoped that by the end of summer it would be finished and he could enter his seventh year at Hogwarts just like every other year. The longer this cursed war continued, the harder it was to believe it was all worth it. Maybe the Cause wasn't real, maybe she wasn't even real. Could she have been a ghost like he had first imagined?
Life without Ginny, means nothing at all.
He could picture her face so well though. He could hear her laugh. He closed his eyes, picturing her smile. No, she must have been real once.
Would you weep Ginny, should your Draco fall?
He buried his head in his shaking hands as he sat, curled in the edge of his bed. A traitor in a den of snakes. Silent sobs wracked his frame.
Will you weep, Ginny, for me?
------ --- ------ ------ --- ------- ------ ---- ------- ---- -------
Author's etc: More to come, I promise. Review please, it makes me smile. -sweetp
Leave a Review