Challenge # 62: Broken Wand
Title: To Dream
Rating: G
Pairings: Snape/Draco Harry/Draco implied
Author's Notes: 29 minutes, Sixth in the series. Insert Plot >.<
It, Choices, A Small Hurdle, A Break In Routine
Hey, Teacher
Red slitted eyes peered down at a groveling Lucius Malfoy. He was mumbling some nonsense about not knowing and being so terribly sorry. Tom hissed ‘Crucio’ just to shut him up. His screams were so much more satisfying anyway; as was the way he twitched on the ground, fingers clawing at stone and dirt like a small spider injected with its own venom. Tom flicked his wand to end the spell and lounged in his chair in such a way to convey his absolute boredom yet complete loathing for the pitiful sight on the floor in front of him. Lucius was panting, still clawing at the floor while his heart beat in random palpations in his chest, eyes flittingly dilating and contracting, hair hanging in a bedraggled mess around his chin while the longer strands still managed to cling to the thin band that held them back.
Tom flicked his wand again and the screams returned. He was idly bored and this man was no longer of any use to him. With the cessation of the spell he fluidly rose from his chair and pushed the quivering, once-proud man over onto his back with a pair of skeletal fingers. Malfoy’s wand was located and drawn forth. Tom fingered it for a moment, all but tasting the weakening silver power it contained. Lucius could only moan his protest and flinch away with the crack of wood echoed in the chamber. Two more followed, the halves being snapped into fourths. A complex moment of arcane spell casting later, Lucius was without wand.
Tom knelt in the grime and forced the man to look at him, eternally cold fingers digging into his cheek, nails dangerously close to piercing skin. “You’ve failed me for the last time, dear Lucius. Your son’s treachery is an unfortunate development. The fact that you failed to detect it only proves your worthlessness.” Tom watched with some amusement as Malfoy’s eyes twitched and attempted to focus, the delicate muscles still suffering from the curse. “I’m afraid he’ll have to be eliminated, as will the Traitor, but you’ll hardly have any time to worry about that in light of the festivities. It is the New Year, after all, dear Lucius. My loyal followers must be dieing to celebrate…”
Harry jerked in bed, breath coming in pants as he tried to calm down. A dream, it was just a dream. Agony laced through his head and spine, wrenching a scream from his throat and tears from his eyes. When he finally had control of his limbs again he curled into a ball, arms clutching his midsection. Not a dream then, not a dream.
He fell out of bed and stumbled to his feet and toward the fireplace. He latched onto a strange moment of impulse and managed to floo to the Hogwarts Great Hall. Staggering out of the fireplace he steadied himself on the high table for a moment before making his jerky way toward the dungeons. Draco had long ago confided in him his desire for the resident potions master and while Harry, at the time, had felt a poignant sense of loss (for his own feelings would have to be left aside), he had encouraged the blonde to go after his goal. He wasn’t sure why he knew Draco would have succeeded, he just knew. It was an inexplicable sense he was not in the right state of mind to question, so he followed it.
Wards. Damn the man and his paranoia. Around his bloody classroom in the middle of the school year, no less. The pain had not lessened, but Harry had his breath back and he wasn’t seeing white anymore. That had to be a good sign. He made it to the door with a thump and it was almost immediately flung open. He collapsed, gasping, hands clenched around his stomach again to avoid raking his nails along his forehead. Voices, he snapped his eyes open and grabbed a disheveled looking Draco by the collar of his shirt, yanking him down. “Your father… Voldemort broke… wand.” He gasped and shuddered as a new wave of pain laced through his scar and made him see stars. “You're next…” He trailed off again, fingers loosening their grip.
Rating: G
Pairings: Snape/Draco Harry/Draco implied
Author's Notes: 29 minutes, Sixth in the series. Insert Plot >.<
It, Choices, A Small Hurdle, A Break In Routine
Hey, Teacher
Red slitted eyes peered down at a groveling Lucius Malfoy. He was mumbling some nonsense about not knowing and being so terribly sorry. Tom hissed ‘Crucio’ just to shut him up. His screams were so much more satisfying anyway; as was the way he twitched on the ground, fingers clawing at stone and dirt like a small spider injected with its own venom. Tom flicked his wand to end the spell and lounged in his chair in such a way to convey his absolute boredom yet complete loathing for the pitiful sight on the floor in front of him. Lucius was panting, still clawing at the floor while his heart beat in random palpations in his chest, eyes flittingly dilating and contracting, hair hanging in a bedraggled mess around his chin while the longer strands still managed to cling to the thin band that held them back.
Tom flicked his wand again and the screams returned. He was idly bored and this man was no longer of any use to him. With the cessation of the spell he fluidly rose from his chair and pushed the quivering, once-proud man over onto his back with a pair of skeletal fingers. Malfoy’s wand was located and drawn forth. Tom fingered it for a moment, all but tasting the weakening silver power it contained. Lucius could only moan his protest and flinch away with the crack of wood echoed in the chamber. Two more followed, the halves being snapped into fourths. A complex moment of arcane spell casting later, Lucius was without wand.
Tom knelt in the grime and forced the man to look at him, eternally cold fingers digging into his cheek, nails dangerously close to piercing skin. “You’ve failed me for the last time, dear Lucius. Your son’s treachery is an unfortunate development. The fact that you failed to detect it only proves your worthlessness.” Tom watched with some amusement as Malfoy’s eyes twitched and attempted to focus, the delicate muscles still suffering from the curse. “I’m afraid he’ll have to be eliminated, as will the Traitor, but you’ll hardly have any time to worry about that in light of the festivities. It is the New Year, after all, dear Lucius. My loyal followers must be dieing to celebrate…”
Harry jerked in bed, breath coming in pants as he tried to calm down. A dream, it was just a dream. Agony laced through his head and spine, wrenching a scream from his throat and tears from his eyes. When he finally had control of his limbs again he curled into a ball, arms clutching his midsection. Not a dream then, not a dream.
He fell out of bed and stumbled to his feet and toward the fireplace. He latched onto a strange moment of impulse and managed to floo to the Hogwarts Great Hall. Staggering out of the fireplace he steadied himself on the high table for a moment before making his jerky way toward the dungeons. Draco had long ago confided in him his desire for the resident potions master and while Harry, at the time, had felt a poignant sense of loss (for his own feelings would have to be left aside), he had encouraged the blonde to go after his goal. He wasn’t sure why he knew Draco would have succeeded, he just knew. It was an inexplicable sense he was not in the right state of mind to question, so he followed it.
Wards. Damn the man and his paranoia. Around his bloody classroom in the middle of the school year, no less. The pain had not lessened, but Harry had his breath back and he wasn’t seeing white anymore. That had to be a good sign. He made it to the door with a thump and it was almost immediately flung open. He collapsed, gasping, hands clenched around his stomach again to avoid raking his nails along his forehead. Voices, he snapped his eyes open and grabbed a disheveled looking Draco by the collar of his shirt, yanking him down. “Your father… Voldemort broke… wand.” He gasped and shuddered as a new wave of pain laced through his scar and made him see stars. “You're next…” He trailed off again, fingers loosening their grip.