Draco slowly emerged from sleep, blinking a pair of sleepy grey eyes open. It was that time when dreams were still present, and reality hadn't quite set in. Where identity was the most fluid, and everything seemed possible. He then remembered himself, and glanced over. Trying not to think about this was the last time he wouldn't be sleeping alone for a while. His hand reached out to idly move a strand of hair from Mia's face.
Milliways seemed like a distant dream, after the effects of the Memory Charm. Which is what he wanted. Most of the important parts, faded or hidden. Or both.

Including the time of a grief over a father he thought he had lost. But it wasn't him, or not his really. Yet his parents told him to keep the ring. It was his birthright, and better he have it now. Ensure his survival in the days and months to come in times of darkness.

It's not hell, but you can see it from here. )
dragonofgrey: (Draco and Mia outside)
The ceremony was nice, and short. And the reception back in Vane went well. Better than he expected in one area. But now, the real fun begins as they returned to her room, laughing a little.

Private parties are their own kind of fun.
He was going to head up to his room. But then belatedly remembered it's not his room anymore. He almost headed to the booths in the back, or outside. But then found the door to the gents, and went inside. Ignoring the graffiti as he found a stall toward the back to hole inside.

Anyone in the vicinity of the lavatory will likely heard someone sobbing, and sounding absolutely wretched.
After speaking to Moon, Draco had gone upstairs to the room, and behind a hidden panel on the bookshelf near the potion supplies. He took out his Waking Dreams potion, a swirling oil-like in color and texture, only with glittery and pearlescent shimmers like the night sky. He carefully uncorked the bottle. Pausing for a moment.

Drink a little dream of me. Yes. Well.

He took a careful sip, a small one. Re-corked the bottle. And hid it away, knowing the need to move quickly. Before the drugs hit his system. He slowly moved to his room, and sat on the bed. One slow deep breath, and then another. And another. And the room slowly seemed to change around him. He was now in his bedroom back at the Manor.

Only the room seemed crowded. With other hims? Even his fox form was calmly sitting on his haunches in front of him, a very haggard looking version who seemed frightened of his own shadow, and also a younger one, confident in being the prince of Slytherin house for his year. If not for a few years even. Another, pale and drawn from his last year at Hogwarts. Currently holding the hand of a much younger version. Before Hogwarts clearly, maybe even barely had started being tutored. Did his eyes ever seem that innocent? Quietly gazing back and blinking at him. To the background, there was in the shadows, another version smirking as well, and there seemed a cold wind around him. His brief time as a servant of the Dark.

"What's going on?"

Hogwarts Draco: "Don't you know? You wanted to speak with us. This nonsense about finding yourself. I can't believe I turned into you. Sicking really."

Mad Draco: "The voices, still there. Still calling."

Dark Draco: "Merlin... who invited that mad tosser? Really, you are mad. You went from having so much power, to that? No wonder people think you're pathetic."

"Shut up, we never had that power. We were its slave."

Dark Draco: "Go from this to being slave of your own mind. You were still better off this way. Shouldn't have bothered with Danny. He made a bad tool or bargaining piece in the end."

"Shut up!" He reached for his wand.

Hogwarts Draco: "Looking for this?" *holding up his own* "Really, we play with cards. We don't let them play with us. And we certainly don't trust them with anything as valuable as this."

Sixth Year Draco: "You can't trust anybody, especially their sort. Look at what happened."

"How could I know? I actually wanted help."

Dark Draco: "Because you let yourself be wrapped around some witch's finger. Granted she certainly looks nice, but there's others who are less frigid and uptight."

"I thought I told you to shut up!"

Dark Draco: "Make me... oooh, you can't. You just some lowly Squib or Muggle now. You lost what little power you had. Pity."

"I didn't ask for all of you here."

Mad Draco: "They come... masks. All masks. But one's not like the other. Turn around and see who you are."

Sixth Year Draco: "Utterly mad, but a point." *crouches down next to the child, and whispers something to him.* "You want what's lost, right? So we can protect what's important. Make up for what happened."

Child Draco: You look just like Daddy. Sad like him. He never smiled either.

He slowly nodded, "Yes, I had to become him to understand. So he could love me." He got up, and sat down on the floor to talk to his child self. The fox form padded over for pets, and occasionally scampered around the room. The rest seemed to fade into the shadows as he sat there.

Listening mostly.
and Draco still wasn't happy about it. He wanted stitches out, and to be able to get up again. Just to get outside and get some fresh air at least would be enough.

Miniver must have just stepped out of the room again for something as he winced while he tried to sit up. His hand instinctively reached for his wand like he did every morning, and he cursed at another reminder of how it wasn't there.
dragonofgrey: (Pain)
Another day, and Draco had slept fitfully off and on. The one dream he had of the woman Star was pleasant, and reassuring. Especially when he awoke in pain again. Miniver must have stepped away for a moment because he woke up to being alone in bed. Fresh pain flared from the stitches, and he tried to shift himself up to sit. It hurt a great deal to move, and it looked like getting up was still out of the question.

Bugger...

Room 1

May. 24th, 2007 02:19 pm
The grey pallor had faded from his features, and his breathing has shifted to deeper patterns. Not as shallow as before. Draco's eyes fluttered awake, unsure of where he was for a moment, and very groggy still from the remnants of morphine. He shifted a little, and then there was a small moan as pain flared. He slowly peered down at himself, lots of blankets, and something seemed wrong with his left shoulder, and stomach. And Miniver was sleeping draped over him.

Where? Seemed to be his room, one of them.

What happened? He was having a bit trouble remembering that right this second, and debating on sleeping some more. And bugger did it hurt.
dragonofgrey: (Grin)
The first thing is how much rich dark green on things. And black, and silver. It was prominent everywhere. Also there was a clear sense of wealth, of velvet curtains hung just so. Of tastefully placed ornaments around, some of which moved, or had something else odd about them. Everything neat, and in its place, except for one corner where there was a set of bookshelves stuffed with books, and various pieces of paper and parchment wherever there's space. It seemed so jarringly out of place with everything else.

But one of the occupant's owner was currently focused on the man arriving behind him. Both rather inebriated.
Draco had gone down the hall, through the bar. With a Concealing Charm to avoid trouble. He went through the back door, and outside, heading purposefully for the lake. Idle crushing various sticks and new grass under his feet as he walked along. Not stepping until the ground smoothed into sand and rocks by the lake shoreline.

Now about the squid...
After everything, Draco had fled up to the room. The jacket got left on a random chair, and he curled up into the bed, bandage on his nose, and his stomach still sore from the bruising.
Stuck in bed for a few days, ugh. He'll have to leave a note.

But that would wait. It would have to wait.

Because.

He

Couldn't

Stop

Crying.

Bugger it...
The door was shut, and it seemed very quiet. Occasionally voices were heard, but usually very quiet. Seemingly peaceful. There was an additional note on the door. Enchanted letters in fact designed to last a day.

"On holiday. Drop by if it's good.
Otherwise piss off."

Room 1

Mar. 10th, 2007 07:57 pm
From here
The room was quiet, but that wasn't going to last long with the thunder of footsteps racing up the stairs and down the hall to the front door.
dragonofgrey: (Grin)
He still had the grin on him as he and Miniver entered the room, and headed to the bedroom. Still...connected. Yes.

He laughed as well, and then leaned in to give the poet a serious snogging. Somebody's clearly enjoying himself in more ways than one.

"Bloody brilliant!" He crowed as well when he broke the kiss finally.
Draco used Alohamora on the door, and opened it with a Miniver in a blanket in tow. He kept him moving into the room, and briefly waved his wand at the door to shut and lock it again. He was going to keep the drunken man moving to where he could get him to sit, and then see about next steps.

"C'mon, this way. Keep moving!"
It wasn't an overtly large room, but it clearly was rather larger than it seemed with spacing. And he tried to make do with lavish furnishings as befitting his station. So there were a lot of tasteful green and silver accents around. Somewhat conservative in style, and any opulence seemed stylish. There were bookshelves in the living room area, a chair, and a comfortable looking love seat couch, a discreet loo, and a separate room for the bath. The bedroom had a full sized mattress with a dark green duvet on top.

Draco magic the door open, and said, "Right in here."
(Copied from Viv's version)

Reply here and I will:

1)Tell you why I first approached you.
2)Associate you with a song/movie/book.
3)Tell a random fact about you.
4)Tell my favorite memory of you.
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6)Ask something I've always wanted to know about you.
7)In return, you MUST spread this questionnaire amongst the patrons.
It's said by some that people are not fully adults until their parents pass on. Perhaps it is so here. Draco thought he was a man before. But not like this. His mum had gone back to their world, but how safe was she there? Especially after...

After his father had been killed. He cried afterwards. After his father had vanished completely. After he fled the bar to the House of Arch, and cried and got angry at Tom. Cried and was angry when he returned to his room. Crying himself to sleep in a wrecked room an hour later, huddled on his bed.

Draco slept fitfully off and on, unable to erase the grotesque images of his father, mixing with images of his menacing uncle, and the Dark Lord towering over him. Torturing him slowly, piece by piece, like he did over that winter break of his sixth year. Draco wasn't proceeding as quickly as he wanted him to, and wanted to 'encourage' him to hurry up. A few applications of the Crucio curse, and death threats to his family were more than enough to do the trick.

At least until the night of the tower. When everything began to fall apart. When he was forced to start over in Milliways.

Now a year later, and he was now the last of the Malfoy line. That was what the family crest ring represented. He had his duty.

A son's duty.
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