Roses Black

A

He had grown from the scrawny, pale boy he once was. The old image to be replaced by a more grown-up form. Though he was still slender, he was also toned and had muscle structure, a seekers build.

A warm summer breeze ran through his hair, tossing the black tendrils about his head. It succeeded in messing up his already wild hair. He supposed that his growth spurt had been a natural part of growing up, after all, his voice was unpleasantly squeaky at times. Things change, he had told himself, people do too. How very right he was. He was at Hogwarts for the summer, and had been ever since the Dursleys had kicked him out. No skin of my back. He had thought in a melancholy way as he was picked up by members of the ministry and taken to where he was now.

The downside, at least in his opinion was the fact that Draco Malfoy was also at Hogwarts over the summer. Why or how? Only Dumbledore knew. Harry did know that he didn't like it one bit. There was also that girl at the castle. Now he definitely did not like her. She was very pale, with pale blonde hair and black eyes. She creeped him out, and she constantly hung around that Malfoy git. If he remembered correctly, her name was Luscinia. She didn't have a last name as far as he knew. But then, he avoided her at all costs. There was just this aura around her; it told him she was no good.

Sighing slightly, Harry peered up at the twinkling stars and sighed. The night is so beautiful, he thought, reaching up a hand as if he could touch the sky. He had no way of knowing that he was the night, beautiful and in constant change.

*

He glanced over his book at the pale haired girl sitting across from him. Luscinia was a puzzle. One he did not care to solve. Draco Malfoy remained as snobby and aristocratic as always as he put the book down, leaned back on the chair, and put his leather booted feet on the table. Luscinia glared at him from under the fringe of her hair that swept gingerly off to one side.

"You know, I really don't appreciate your feet in my face, Draco. And as much as I love you,' her voice dripped sarcasm, 'I really don't want your expensive leather boots on the table where I work. So, if you please feet, table, off, now."

Draco sighed, "Luscinia, I'm touched!" His voice was dramatic and overly sardonic as he placed his hands over his heart melodramatically.

"Drama queen," the black eyed girl said, turning her eyes back to the parchment she was writing on.

"Har, har." Draco joked as he started to take his feet from the table. He overbalanced and fell backward in a frazzled clash of books and a very annoyed Draco Malfoy.

Luscinia looked over at him innocently, her eyes big and 'surprised.' Draco knew, for that was a face he used frequently, that she had done it.

"I heard that oh mighty fallen one, and you know as well as I do, that its to late." Her voice held sarcastic truth, though Draco ignored it and rolled his eyes. He swaggered around the table to look at what she had been writing; it was a poem.

It stopped there, Draco bent down and looked up at her, concerned, "You know, when you write poems like that, people will start to figure out what you are." He was inches from her face as he said this; she looked back into his eyes without flinching.

"I'm only half-vampire, I don't kill, I can go out in the sun, and blood just isn't my thing. So really, if someone did find out, I wouldn't be worried."

Draco knew how well Luscinia was hiding her feelings, she was good at that, and so was he, though his resolve was breaking. He leaned in closer to her an inch away, maybe less.

"You know, a wise person once said," she looked at him, her face giving nothing away, but her eyes lingered on his lips, "Oh sod that." He got up quickly and walked away, peering at the many Darkarts books on the restricted section's shelves. Luscinia had followed him.

"Oh sod that? I hardly doubt a wise person said that. What did you want to say?" Those six words bit down on him slowly, he could never say that, ever. Draco looked up at her childlike expression.

Her silver hair was so like his own, yet hardly close, and her pale skin was a match to his, for different reasons. But her black eyes bored into him like only Harry Potter's could. That thought scared him. She was dressed all in white, with a forest green cloak over those clothes. She had a pale, gothic beauty, much like his own he presumed.

"If you want wise words, go see some old codger with a beard. I'm just Draco Malfoy, here for your viewing pleasure."

She rolled her eyes at him and left, obviously angry. The pale boy collapsed on a shelf filled with old potion books. Draco didn't like to make her mad, but it was unavoidable. He had almost kissed her. His walls had crumbled, but he couldn't tell that to her. Not that he had walls concerning Luscinia, not at all.

He recollected why he had been brought to Hogwarts this summer. He really didn't like to think about what the Headmaster had told him, so he rarely did. But as he sunk lower, to the floor, he couldn't help the memories from flooding back. He pushed those hateful thoughts away, thinking about something else.

He'd been greatly amused to see Potter at the castle, but also rather shocked at the boy's looks. Harry had grown taller, but had not become lanky like his best friend the red headed weasel. He had acquired a dark, fathomless look that few could achieve; Draco himself was still working on it. The boy had also acquired a gothic fashion sense. He dressed, frequently, in black and the dark coloured ( blood red, forest green and black) cloaks and the stylish leather that he sometimes wore had surprised even Dumbledore.

Draco still resented Harry, but it appeared that he would just have to stick it out.

***

Luscinia walked, ran was more like it, from the library up to the south tower, then (after casting a silencing charm), promptly, screamed.

Draco Malfoy could be so infuriating at times. The boy was fathomless and beautiful. But so, so, SO difficult.

She had known him since she was eight, and liked him for a few years now. But it eluded her as to how he could be so damn clueless. Back in the library when he had almost kissed her, she had felt scared, surprised, and a little bit excited. It's not past a half vampire to feel as a human does, they actually feel emotions more so then most of us. Half vampires or semi-lamiae are considered humans with special powers, not really sired by a Vampire at all. (Though this proves untrue for a half Vampire is a human with vampiric blood). She thought back to when she had been 'made.' Her creator, Furvus, had bashed her up against a tree and shoved his wrist to her mouth. She had lapped up the sweet blood, thus, considering that she hadn't been drained first, became a Semi Lamiae.

It confused her to no end to see Draco act as so dispassionate about the whole situation. She really wanted to smack him and then at the same time, she wanted to kiss him.

She hadn't wanted to come to Hogwarts in the first place; she had liked her vampiric tutelage just fine. But the silver haired man, Dumblebee, or something of the sort, had insisted. So, whether for her, or for Draco, she had come. She had no dark secret, except maybe that she thought that she loved Draco Malfoy. But what girl doesn't, Hermione Granger excluded.

Leaning against the stone balcony, she saw with surprise and amusement, Harry Potter.

He was atop the astronomy (west) tower, how he got there was lost on her, wrapped in a veil of silken night. He really looked more like the seductive vampire from popular myth then she did. But Harry Potter was not a Vampire. Was he?

***

Dumbledore looked out of his window and saw, with some hilarity, all three of his summer time residents out on the south, west, and east towers. It was beyond him to try and punish them; they would only deny it, though maybe Harry wouldn't.

The boy was different, it stood to reason, anyone would be different after what he had gone through

Luscinia was new, un-trodden ground. Like the newly formed full moon she stood, watching the stars. Her pale skin held a nightly glow, like the waxed moon. She could be trusted, but her feelings were all too teenage.

Draco, now he was a problem. The pale boy had just walked out onto the east tower, looking over at the other two, a sad gleam in his frosty eyes. Dumbledore chuckled, "So it has begun."

***

Harry looked around him, his hand on the roof, steadying his weight. He saw the girl, Luscinia, off in one of the towers, and Draco Malfoy in another.

Luscinia's long silver hair was blowing in the breeze, sweeping out to her right side along with her cloak. He couldn't see her eyes, so he wasn't all too creeped out. She was dressed in white and green, and looked angelic, Harry allowed himself a smirk as he thought that. That girl was anything but an angel. How incredibly right he was. Harry heard a faint whisper on the wind and turned to the direction of Draco Malfoy.

Draco was watching Luscinia; his hair also blown upon the warm breeze, dressed all in black he looked pale and dark all at the same time. Harry had felt his smirk fade as he looked at Malfoy. The boy was unreadable from this far away, but Harry could feel sadness coming off him in waves, it was unnerving. Draco was perceptibly part of the night, much like Harry, though he didn't know it yet. Harry decided that this summer would be awful quite early on, he wouldn't be disappointed, though it would be horrible in it's own ways, not to be expected.

Harry let the pale moonlight wash over him, bathing him in its silver light, wakening things deep inside of him.

***

Draco sighed as he gazed at the fair apparition of Luscinia. She was angry with him, he knew. The girl had let her long hair down, it reached her waist, but at the moment, it was blown to her side, along with her cloak. Draco was depressed over the fact that he had to be in this infernal castle all year long, maybe even until he finished his magical education. He was also saddened over the fact the girl he kept away was getting closer, and he could barley stop it.

"Child of the moonlight, daughter of the night, why do you taunt me so?" His voice was barely a whisper, but Draco sensed a pair of eyes on the side of his head. He turned to see Potter, turning away from him, the moonlight washing over the black haired boy's slender yet muscular form.

Draco really had to admire that, though he would never admit it, Harry could be anything he wanted to be. He had grown into his looks, and could be a bright and happy part of the day. But, he reasoned, Harry Potter was unmistakably kindred, a thing of the darkness, though not entirely good, he was no where near being evil. Draco did not know that he was like Harry, in more ways then one, but he did know that Harry was special, and that was the first step to recovery.

***

All three of them looked up in surprise as a song ran through the air, it was sharp and true, free of pain, yet incredibly sad. The words were old and rang through the sky like a dusty violin.

Latin, most likely, though none of them had a clue of what it meant. No one knew where it came from, and it was anyone's guess as to whose voice that was. Luscinia looked over at the other two and nodded, slightly, then left the tower, heading for Dumbledore's office. Draco followed shortly, then Harry, wearing a mask of dispassion. No doubt some other thing to make him special.

He met up with the two at the end of the staircase; Draco and Luscinia looked amused, but not afraid. Harry was expressionless.

"So what do you think that was?" Luscinia asked Harry, already having had this conversation with Draco just moments ago.

"Me? I don't know, most likely some attempt to kill me again." Harry's voice was cold and sarcastic, rivalling even Draco. Luscinia took the hint and kindly shut her mouth. Draco, however, wasn't going to back down.

"Potter, you are a helpless, conceited git!" He stopped Harry in mid stride, looking at the black haired boy with sudden hate.

Harry simply shrugged and walked past, "You really have to stop talking to yourself, Malfoy, it's really quite unbecoming." With that, Harry strode to Dumbledore's office, not even pausing to look back.

Draco was in such a state that Luscinia had to smack him to get him out of it. He was raving and his eyes were a blaze, Luscinia rather enjoyed that sound her hand made as it collided with the pale boy's face, leaving a burning red mark.

"Draco, just leave it be! You'll give yourself a head ache, and if you didn't sooner or later I would have knocked you out, problem solved!" Her voice was commanding and she looked up into his eyes, calming him down.

"Whatever." The pale boy brushed past her, going to his dorm in the Slytherin dungeons. Luscinia stood in the center of the hallway, looking, for all the world, like a lost little girl.

"I never asked to care, Draco," she whispered, tears falling from her face as she ran to her room beside the south tower.

***

Harry had told Professor Dumbledore about the song, how it had played upon his ears and how it had made him feel lost. Dumbledore just smiled and nodded then told the boy to go get some sleep. Harry had complied, and was now at rest in his bed in Griffindor tower.

Dumbledore, however, was not asleep and was chuckling to himself as he played a song over and over in his office:

***

Away from Hogwarts, and on a little island, a man (if you could call him that) sat upon a silver and gold throne. Half-naked women waited on him; all looking slightly repulsed by his snake like face.

"Wormtail, bring in the recruits, and leave after you are done." The man spat in a commanding voice. His hood was raised and his face hidden.

The rat of a man scuttled out of the room and brought in two cloaked figures, one taller then the other, both faces hidden. Voldemort stood and circled them, scrutiny in his ruby eyes. His face almost human. "Why have you chosen to become my children?"

The first one said, "To step out of the shadows by living in darkness." The Dark Lord smirked, how poetic.

The second one intoned, "For power, ambition, and the cause of ridding this world of the Muggles." Voldemort cackled and grinned with mad glee. Placing the recruits under veritaserum was the best idea that he had ever had. Weed out the spies, that was his plan.

"Are you someone else under Polyjuice potion?" he demanded. They both said 'no.' Voldemort couldn't suppress the mad cackle that rose in his throat. "Do you pledge yourselves to the cause fully and completely?"

"Yes," they both said in unison. Voldemort grinned and uttered the incantation that would give the two men the mark.

If the men felt pain, they did not voice it. They simply looked at each other and left the room, either to apparate elsewhere, or to do their first mission. Voldemort had the afterglow of a job well done and he sunk back down into his throne.

A woman, dressed all in green, apparated into the room, smiling slightly. "It hassss been done..." she hissed, a forked tongue sliding from between her lips. Her eyes were bright yellow and her skin was pale green. She had a tale and slits for pupils. She was a demon.

"Good." the man hissed as the woman grinned and popped out of site.

The man sat, quietly thinking of things to come, he thought of the Potter boy and the...no he couldn't bare to turn his mind to that now. His first mission as the dark lord had been carried out, and many more were soon to be finished. He allowed himself an ugly smirk, and called his pet snake to him. Nagini hissed as she slithered into her master's lap, a sound only audible by the man.

He hissed back at her, and if you spoke the language of snakes you would know what he said. It was his plot, his idea, and the conspiracy. This man was not to be trusted, this man was the boy who was once stunningly handsome, this man, was Voldemort.