Disclaimer: Unfortunately, Miss. Rowling owns everything to do with Harry Potter and friends. Any recognizable plot elements, characters, names, etc., all belong to her. Anything that does not seem recognizable probably belongs to me.
Also note, halfway through this story, I changed the name and chapter titles, to reflect verses from "Closer" By Nine Inch Nails. Again, I don't own it, and I am making no profits off of this. I simply love this song (please check it out!).
I hate putting disclaimers at the beginning of each chapter, so please assume that this applies to the remainder of this story.
Draco Malfoy was bored. And when he was bored, bad things seemed to happen. When he was younger, this would have included the incident where Pansy Parkinson had had half of her head shaved in her sleep. This also would have included a kneazle being set free in Lucius Malfoy's office.
Unfortunately, it also included tricking Blaise Zabini into cursing his mother's house elf to drink half the liquor cabinet, and do a strip tease during the annual Zabini Yule Ball. He shuddered remembering what exactly had happened to that house elf. There were few things that he actually regretted… but that… Well, the thought that he had been only nine years old at the time helped somewhat.
Tapping his fingers against the arm of the chair he was lounging in, he stared out the window at the tranquil gardens located behind Malfoy Manor. The soft blue glimmer of the lake could be found beyond the trees, and the sun glinted in the distance.
How fucking perfect. Stuck in this bloody place, with only bloody Hogwarts to look forward to, he thought to himself viciously. Sighing, he tossed back the remainder of the firewhiskey he clutched in one elegant, white hand before throwing the empty glass at the bedroom wall.
Silver hair falling into Draco's eyes, he leaned his head back to stare at the ceiling, concentrating on the graceful swirls of detail embedded there.
"You're fucking pathetic Malfoy." A low voice drawled from the doorway, it's owner silently sauntering into the large room.
"Fuck off, Zabini." Draco ignored the other male, instead choosing to lazily flick his wand at the side cabinet, "Accio firewhiskey."
Blaise reached out lazily and grabbed the bottle before it reached Draco's hand.
"Fucker." He stood up, stretching his back out, and sighing as he felt his tense muscles pulling under the thin t-shirt he was wearing.
"Lush." Blaise replied, taking a swig from the bottle himself.
"Yeah, right, you're not making that one too easy at the moment." Draco glared at the rapidly emptying bottle in the darker youth's hand.
"Get dressed, we're going to Diagon." Blaise leaned against the wall indolently, watching Draco run a hand through his silvery hair, wincing as his fingers caught in the few tangles that the silky texture would allow.
"I am dressed, you bugger." Draco spat out, pulling his t-shirt down over the top of his worn jeans.
"Oh, well, I meant in something that was not going to give your mother a coronary." Blaise grinned slightly, his red lips gleaming in the late afternoon sunlight, "Something that doesn't scream 'look how Muggle I can be!'"
Draco sneered at his friend, and grabbed a black button down shirt from where a house elf had left it neatly folded on his dresser, "Fuck it, let's go."
Laughing, Blaise bowed slightly at the waist, motioning to the door, as the taller male strode past with a grace that spoke of generations of careful aristocratic breeding. Following Draco, Blaise smirked, there may be a reason why those Muggle clothes are so popular. Nice ass.
"I heard that." Draco shot over his shoulder with a smirk. Laughing again, Blaise reached forward to sharply pinch the firm flesh he had been admiring as they made their way to the Floo Room.
Shaking his head over his friend's liberties, Draco ignored the loud mutterings from the portraits of his ancestors that lined the darkened hallway. That was his usual defense against them, as they rarely approved of his actions.
Blaise, however, thought them entertaining, and had more than once been caught calmly informing Marcus Malfoy from the 17th century just how much he admired Muggles, and how he thought it was absolutely wonderful that the Malfoys now willingly associated with Mudbloods. Draco knew it was not possible for the figures in the paintings to hurt the living, but at that moment, he had begun to fear for Blaise's safety.
Sure enough, Blaise started in on Hildegarde Malfoy with his charm, calmly stating that any time she wanted a romp, he would be "up her knickers without a second thought, and would ruin her for any other 2-dimensional fuckers."
Draco winced, and reached back to grab Blaise's arm as the portraits began really yelling.
"Why Draco, so forceful, you know that turns me on…" Blaise smirked as he was pulled into the small room with fireplaces along each wall.
"Good lord, what doesn't turn you on?" Draco rolled his eyes, and grabbed the shorter boy in for a quick, but passionate kiss, running his tongue along Blaise's full lower lip.
Moaning, Blaise pushed himself close against Draco's lean body, his fingers holding his hips with a bruising tightness.
Draco pulled away reluctantly after a few moments, his tongue sliding over his lips, tasting the last bit of pure Blaise that lingered there. He grinned at his disappointed friend, and stepped over the fireplace grate, grabbing some of the Floo powder on his way.
Ginny Weasely was bored. And when she was bored, bad things seemed to happen. For example, cursing Ron Weasely's hair a couple of months before to turn purple just in time for his big date with Hermione Granger, and then casting the blame on their older twin brothers. Actually, that still amused her, as she smiled innocently, remembering Ron's surprisingly girlish shrieks.
Flopping onto her back in the tall grass, Ginny studied the movements of the clouds, willing herself to stay awake. The sun warmed her pale skin in a lovely way, making her feel incredibly relaxed, and content. Her summer had been… interesting to say the least.
Leaving Hogwarts at the end of her 5th year a few months beforehand, she had not been looking forward to a summer away from the place that she really thought of as her home, but she had been pleasantly surprised.
First, her brother Bill, and his wife, Fleur, had been expecting their first child, and Ginny's parents had decided to join them in France for the summer to help with its impending arrival.
Then, her twin brothers Fred and George had decided that they needed extra help at their joke shop, and had hired her on, ensuring that she had plenty of pocket money.
Ginny's grin turned bittersweet as she remembered the only thing about her summer that had already soured. Harry Potter, her brother Ron's best friend, had finally asked her out, and they had spent the month of July together before he had left suddenly with Ron and Hermione on some sort of 'mission'. It was now the end of August, and she had still not heard from him.
Feeling slightly bad, Ginny admitted to herself that she had not fully missed her 'ex-boyfriend'. Spending that much time in Fred and George's shop had meant there was plenty of teenage male admirers around, and they had all noticed how she was definitely not a child. Her grin spread into a smirk as she thought back on the previous night's fun with Seamus Finnegan, who had been incredibly… fun.
Stretching her arms over her head so that her small t-shirt rode up slightly, Ginny absent-mindedly played with the small silver ring that now adorned her bellybutton. It was a souvenir from a day in Muggle London with Lavender and Parvati a couple of weeks before.
The three girls had bonded over a shared love of clothing and boys, and had spent the day seeing as much of London as possible before going to a Muggle club and getting Ginny completely smashed for the first time ever, before all traipsing back to the Burrow at the break of dawn giggling like hyenas. Living on her own for the first time was definitely to Ginny's liking.
The only brothers that were around were the twins, who were enjoying her adventures almost as much as herself, and they had breakfast each weekend to go over the previous week's exploits. It was definitely preferable to Ron's overbearing nature, and Percy's pompous airs.
"Gin!" A voice called from the house, "Gin! Get your lardy arse over here!" Ginny grinned as she recognized Fred, and stood up to walk to the back door.
"Hey love, bit of a favour, George needs to go check out new… suppliers," Fred said shiftily, grinning at the roll of Ginny's eyes, "Can you come help me with the shop?"
"Sure." Ginny paused for a moment, a mocking introspective look on her face, "Shall I be paid time and a half for being there on my day off?"
Fred looked irritated for a moment, before smirking at her, "Why not? Come on, I left that new assistant by herself, and she is just way too tasty to be all alone."
Ginny grinned at his antics, and followed him to the fireplace, "Diagon Alley."
A/N: Ok, so I'm giving Ginny a backbone... kinda sick of stories portraying her either as evil, or the virginal goody goody... lol... and yes, there is some slash, Blaise and Draco ENJOY each other. This is a prologue, thus why it's so short. Stay with me, it will all come together, I promise.