Deora ar Mo Chroi

[Oblydia Pravus]

Deora ar Mo Chroi

Prologue: Martyr

"Yes, my lord." Came a rough, dry voice. The speaker was a slight man, kneeling at the feet of a tall wizard, whose robes were deep crimson, the hood pulled tight so the face was hidden. It did not, however, hide the deep, blood-red eyes that peered down contemptuously at his faithful follower.

"Very good, Malnore." He shifted, a hand slipping into his robe pocket. “Now get out, before I change my mind.” The man’s eyes widened.

“Yes, my Lord.” He whispered, before slowly backing out of the room. As the door shut behind him, the man named Malnore looked down the long hallway quickly, his pale eyes scanning, before he hurried to the left. His thumb rubbed nervously against a black stone embedded in a ring he wore. He took a small piece of parchment out of his coat pocket, and unfolded it, studying the words once more.

Looking up, he observed the doors he was passing, before a small smile found it’s way onto his face as he stopped at a burgundy cased one, that read 375 S.S.

In quick succession, Malnore rapped hard on the door with his knuckles. He only had to wait a moment, before it was opened, and a tall man with black, greasy hair, and even blacker and greasier eyes stared down at him. He wore a sneer.

“Wolfe.” He whispered harshly, before jerking his head in the direction of his now exposed quarters. “Get in, quickly.”

Malnore Wolfe stepped past the threshold, and closed the door, peering anxiously around the room. His host did not offer him a seat, but merely stood there before him, eyeing him critically. “It has been a long time.” He said at length.

Malnore reached up to brush a bead of sweat away from his face. “Indeed, too long, I must say.”

One, darkly elegant eyebrow was raised high. “For you, maybe.” Malnore blushed. “How is your wife, Cecile?”

Malnore smiled, glad to be again on solid ground. His wife was as sure footing as you could get, in his opinion. “She’s doing fine. Draven’s wearing her down a bit, but she’s holding on fine.”

“Yes, I had heard of the birth of your heir. Draven, then, is it?”

“Yes.” Malnore frowned, and pulled a slightly damp handkerchief from his back pocket, wiping it along his forehead. He did not return it.

“Severus, I-”

“Yes.” Severus Snape glared. “I think I know why you are here.” His expression was unreadable. “State it yourself, then.”

The shorter man gave a sort of nervous chuckle. “You see...I...” He drew in a deep breath. “Severus, I have reason to believe that He is...That He is going after the Potter’s, and their new son.”

Snape’s eyes darkened. “I see. And why, pray tell, should this concern you so? Our Lord as killed many wizarding families.”

Malnore’s breath quickened, and his eyes began to dart around. “Because I...Severus, I heard things...”

“What kind of things?” Severus snapped.

Malnore flinched. He was never much for bravery. That was Cecile’s forte. “Impossible things. Bad things.” He regarded the taller man, and his confidence grew just a tiny fraction, as he inched forward. “Many things. Including some about you.”

Obsidian eyes narrowed.

“I know what role you play, Severus, for it is also mine.”

A hand tightened on a wand. “And what role is that?”

Malnore smirked. “None.”

There was a silence. Then, Snape breathing raggedly, stepped forward menacingly, causing Malnore to shrink back towards the door. “Get out.” He ground.

“No.” It was just one word, but it led to incite so much anger. “No. You do not believe in ’Our Lord’s’ ways anymore than I do. You see the craziness of this. Of Him.”

Severus shoved him against the wall, Malnore’s eyes going wide. “You are a fool, Malnore Wolfe! You are a fool to make assumptions, whether they be right or wrong, and a fool for believing yourself. If you are so smart, and read people so well, then what do you make of Him. How does he see you? How can you honestly think that He does not know of your betrayal?”

Malnore made a strangled sound in the back of his throat, eyes wide.

“See?,” Snape sneered, teeth bared against his lips. “You don’t know what he thinks. Why? Because of carelessness like this. Whether what he is doing is right or wrong, it doesn’t matter anymore, does it? Does anything matter, Wolfe, anything? How could you possibly believe that you could defunct from his ranks, and have him not notice? Not care? Did you think of your wife? Your son. Evidently not. Think again, why don’t you? Nothing matters. Nothing. It is better to follow a madman, then your own madness.”

He released Malnore, and the door opened out into the hall behind him.

Malnore righted himself, seething. “You are the fool, Severus Snape.” He took a step back, eyes blazing. “It is better to lose your life, than to lose yourself. And He will not have me.”

He left.

~*~

 

[Oblydia Pravus]

Chapter One: Dregs of Society

The wind was cool against his back, and he breathed in deep, inhaling the rich, pine scent. He watched as a flock of jet black birds scattered from the trees, and soared into the sky, stark against the backdrop of pink and gold. The sun was setting, and he knew he should be getting back inside.

He could no longer make out the letters of his poetry book, but that was alright, as he doubted that he could concentrate anymore that night.

He felt the cold on his hands, and his nose was beginning to run, so he closed the book and stood up. Brushing the dirt off his pants, he headed back up the side of a hill, towards his family’s manor home.

Tomorrow he would start his first day of Sixth Year at Hogwarts, and he could feel the anxiousness curling in his belly. Thoughts of the events at the end of last year slipped through the front of his mind, but never would he grasp them. Never…

He would have a long night, tonight. He always did the day before he left his home, his life. Did it matter? Did anything matter?

His father had mattered. His father’s true cause, had mattered,

Yes he decided, there was meaning in the world.

Perhaps Draven would find it this time around.

~*~


A train whistle sounded, sharp, and shrill, the piercing cry signaling another step to be taken, and a road to be worn.

A boy with black hair, and black clothes stepped onto the platform, his lithe, white hands clutching at the baggage he was dragging. He was suckling on a lip ring, and his gray eyes were darting around nervously, as though expecting to be trampled at any second.

Which, in fact, he was.

A plump witch in maroon coloured robes trailed along behind him, grubby fingers holding a large cage at arms length. "Draven, hunny," She spoke, her voice coming out gravelly, but somehow soft, accentuated by her round countours, "Why don't you go put your things in an empty luggage compartment and take this bloody bird?"

Draven eyed her warily, his gaze ghosting over the black hawk that sat perched inside the silver cage. "Aquilus isn't dirty, Mother."

Her face pinched. "All birds are filthy. Why do you think I have Nana Joe deal with the post each morning?"

A small smile ghosted it's way across his lips, and he hauled his bags up tighter. "Alright. I'll put my suitcase in here..." He hobbled over to an opened compartment along the side of the scarlet train, where a few suitcases rested already.

"Hurry up." The woman looked around her anxiously, as though she would rather be anywhere but near so many people, coming and going, and wasting space. "Youn know the house elves at Hogwarts will take care of all that when the train arrives..."

He simply ignored her and arranged his things, hiking his shoulder bag up farther. He never went without it by his hand. It always carried his most prized posessions; his books.

Smiling slightly, he took the cage from his mother's hands, and pressed his lips to her cheek in a quick kiss. She cringed at the cold metal loop that pressed against her skin. "Goodbye, mother. I will write, I promise."

She gave a wistful smile, and played absentmindedly with the collar of his muggle army jacket. "I know you will, but I..." She looked away. "With your father gone, and Zekey always-"

He moved away. "Don't." He glanced at the train. "Just...Don't." He turned around halfways. "I'll write." He said once more, and embarked upon the train.

Holsting his bag up once more, he situated the cage before him and tried to squeeze his way past the other bustling students in the cramped hallway, attempting to find an empty compartment.

As he was nearing the end of the last car, he was beginning to feel a sense of raw panic developing in his chest. What if there's no seats left?

By the time he reached the last five compartments, he was gripping the cage so tightly, he was sure his fingers were about to snap in half. Desperate, he knocked hard on one of the remaining doors, a hollow sound reaching his ears.

There was no answer.

Sighing in relief, he entered the empty compartment and set Aquilus down near the end of the seat. Sitting down on the other side, he tossed his back next to him and began to rummage through the contents, trying to find a particular book.

As he produced a thick, leather bound tomb marked by a scarggly quill, the door to the compartment creaked open, and Draven's head shot up. The book slipped in slackened fingers, but he caught it before it could fully drop.

A tall boy with white blond hair, flanked by two stouter, but wider boys stood in the door frame. A sneer graced the thin, pale lips, and the tall boy stepped foward, hand inside his robes.

"Wolfe." He snarled, lip drawn back. He looked lazily around the compartment, before seating himself across from Draven, trying to get as far away from Aquilus as possible. "There are no other compartments. You're going to have to sit out in the hall, I'm sorry to say." His expression, however, was anything but sorry.

Draven's eyes narrowed, and his hand shifted ever so slightly towards the holster at his hip. But for all his precaution, the whit blond boy cuaght the movement, and his own wand flew up, tip pointed at a spot on Draven's chest.

A long, pale finger wagged sarcastically. "Nuh-huh...I wouldn't do that, Wolfey boy...Wouldn't want you getting in trouble now, would we?" He smirked.

Draven growled deep in his throat, but refrained from moving his limbs anymore, concious of the wand pointed at him. "******** off, Malfoy."

The smirk widened, and the two bulking shapes still in the doorway gave a sort of gurgling laugh. "Tsk tsk. As a pureblood, you shouldn't be using that type of language." His eyes seemed cruel, but there was something else in those depths of ice...A sort of barreness that left Draven more chilled than the wand to his chest.

"Now, I'm going to count to three, and if you and your ruddy bird are not out of here by then, I'll-"

He was cut short by a grunt and a heaving sigh coming from his bodyguards. Crabbe and Goyle lumbered back out into the hallway, as another boy entered, pale skin a contrast to the forest green shirt and tailored black pants. Dark curls danced along his brow, and hazel-green eyes stared down.

Draven forgot to breathe.

A smile graced the beauty's lips. Draven knew this beauty had a name...but suddenly it seemed so...trivial...

"Zabini!" Malfoy snapped, bringing Draven back to reality.

The other boy glared. "Draco. Is this any way to treat a fellow Slytherin? Your Father would be ashamed."

Malfoy's eyes narrowed. "Blaise, you know what he is. He's a bloody pooft-"

Blaise's eyes became slits, and he took a step foward. "And you are a bloody wanker Draco Malfoy, but I don't hold you at wand point for it, despite how much I'd love to."

Malfoy'd hand retreated the slightest bit, his eyes shifting between the other two boys. "But he-"

Dark curls bounced as he shook his head. "No, Malfoy. Leave him be. We are all Slytherin's here, are we not? Show a little of that famous Malfoy hospitality that we rarely get to see." He gave a lopsided grin, and motioned the two goons into the room. "There is no need to force him into the hall. We share a bloody dormitory for Christ's sake, I think you can deal with a train compartment. Atleast we wont have to hear you snore, Malfoy."

The pale boy's mouth twitched in what could have been a smile. Turning his attention away from Draven, he motioned to his bulky friends, and the sat down on the becnh, taking up the entire space. Blaise sat next to Draven, who felt his heart leap into his throat. His knuckles were white from gripping his book.

Draven watched as Malfoy took out a game of Exploding Snape, diverting his attention for good. Blaise had curled up and rested his head against the wall. It wasn't long before his chest rose in the rythmic pattern of sleep.

He sighed, and opened his book, trying to become comfortable. That was the most he had ever interacted with the beauty next to him, and it left him with a dizzy, breathlessness that someone like him even knew that he existed, even though they had shared a dormitory for five years, and had been in every single class together. He had watched him from afar for so long....

He couldn't possibly fathom it.

But even if he could, he wouldn't dare, for the chance that all of this would make sense, and the simple splendour disappear.

He wouldn't give that for the world...

~END CHAPTER ONE~