Hello everyone! I'm alive!... and have no good excuses as to why it has taken so long to update (cough, three years, cough), so I will have to settle for the utterance of one single word; Life. That, and a writers block from hell, one that is still up in full force by the way. I have absolutely no idea where I was going with this story because I was stupid years ago when I started it and didn't draft an outline. So at the moment woe is me because I can't remember much of the future plot. I had to reread the entire story to this point to even get out this chapter. So this is what it comes down to; I need help. Any ideas for the plot or situations between the characters would be extremely helpful, especially if you want another chapter any time this year *cough*. I'm desperate, really struggling, and even considered just putting this story on a permanent hiatus. Especially since I realized I will probably need to rewrite a lot of it (most of the beginning actually).
Also, sorry for not knowing how to properly display the intelligence level of a four year old. I don't like young children very much (I willingly admit that I have no patience what so ever), and therefore do not spend enough time in their presence to be able to formulate a proper analysis of their intelligence level. My bad. As for a rewrite... yeah, that probably won't be happening any time soon. Sorry about that. Right now I'm too busy struggling over what the next scene is. I know I was going somewhere with this...
Malikie, the Ice General of the Dark Elves, looked over the decaying landscape of the Dark Elf home dimension and gave an inaudible sigh of disgust.
"And to think we used to be such a proud race." he murmured aloud softly, leaning his folded arms on top of the railing of the 151st floor balcony he was on and looking down at the wine glass in his hand in annoyance. Arnious, who was in the room behind him being attended by three physicians, looked up at the sound of Malikie's voice.
"What was that? I didn't hear you." Arnious said, his voice grating on Malikie's nerves.
"Nothing that would be of importance to you."
Arnious stared at Malikie's back with his blood red eyes for a moment. "Somebody's touchy. Is it because you made us flee the battle? Are you feeling embarreled?" Arnious said trying to sound mocking. Malikie gave him an uninterested look.
"The word you're looking for is embarrassed. And while we're on that subject, at least I wasn't the one who got bested by a human child." At that Anious's scaly green skin grew darker.
"I would have got him had you given me the chance. But nooo, you had to make us retreat just as a new playmate came along."
"Exactly; Serafious would have torn you to pieces." Malikie said, tilting his glass so that it caught the light.
"You don't know that!" Arnious screeched, making the physicians flinch. Malikie looked back at him stoically.
"Yes, I do." he said flatly.
Arnious glared at him before huffing and looking away. "Well anyway, next time I see that human I'm tearing out his guts and using them as decoration." He said, his nails grating holes into the arms of the chair he was sitting in.
"How vile." Malikie said plainly while turning to look down on the 'city' once more. "And now that it is obvious that the only thing left injured now is your pride, do leave. Your incompetence is tiring." he added, signaling for the healers to leave. They were more then happy to do so, scurrying out. Arnious glared at him for a moment before growling and standing.
"One of these days someone is going to knock you off that high horse of yours. And I'm going to be cheering from the adieus when they do so." he spat, swirling awkwardly and stomping to the door.
"It's audience, imbecile." Malikie commented offhandedly without looking back. Arnious paused at the door and roared angrily before slamming it shut behind him. Malikie didn't even flinch at the sound of cracking wood. He sighed and brought the wine glass to his lips.
Truly the race of the Dark Elves had fallen. What used to be a proud and powerful race were now pitiful beings thriving on death and decay, like common, lowly animals. It was disgusting, really.
Malikie supposed that it can be blamed on the Black Magic running through their veins, but that wasn't completely true either. The plain and simple fact was that the Dark Elves weren't powerful enough to control the very power they created, instead letting it control them.
Malikie lowered the cup and clicked his tongue softly. That is, the Black Magic controlled all of his race except him, it seemed. Truthfully, he didn't know why he had kept his sanity while the rest of his race had fallen. It was just one of those unsolved mysteries in life, but he supposed it probably had something to do with his immunity to influential magic. A trait, it seemed, no one else in his race shared.
Malikie closed his eyes and leaned back slightly. He could still feel the disappointment that had flooded him five days ago when he had opened his eyes and found himself awakened by Prince Obsidian. In truth, no matter how strange it sounded, he had hoped to never be awoken again. Because such a thing would have proven that one other Dark Elf would not fall to their race's curse.
He had, had such high hopes for Prince Obsidian, believing that like himself, Obsidian was immune to the Black Magic's influence. And his hope had increased when Obsidian had willingly agreed to be the Holder of the Seal for their people. Malikie had probably been the only one that had gone to sleep with a smile and without a fight.
But then his hopes had been shattered when he had opened his eyes.
Malikie was snapped momentarily out of his thoughts at a shattering sound to find that he had flung his wineglass against the wall. Taking a deep breath to calm himself he walked over to the mess and kneeled beside it, picking up one of the larger glass shards.
Well, at least something good had come to being awoken. To be able to live again after so long was exhilarating. And what was even more exhilarating was being able to face his long time rival again. Imagine his surprise and delight when he had found Angelus Serafious still alive and kicking after all these years. Sure, he had heard from Obsidian that Serafious was still alive, but hearing and seeing were two entirely different things. Especially since the source of the hearing part wasn't technically all there.
Despite popular belief, he didn't really have anything against the Ancient. It was just that he always found it thrilling to fight the vampire, and had made it a habit of pissing said ancient off for centuries just so the vampire would go after him.
Because, call him crazy for admitting it, he loved fighting. He didn't know why, but it was addictive. The rush of facing off with an opponent, of crossing blades with someone worthy, the adrenaline, the knowledge of the fact that one slip up, one wrong move, and it's over, was all very addicting. And the best part was that you weren't relying on anything else but yourself. Your skills, your power, your reflexes and stamina and knowledge. Nothing else.
Though there was one part about fighting he didn't like. And that was the killing part. How his kind got off on that was beyond him. Come on, what was so exhilarating about taking your opponents life? If you did that, then they wouldn't be around for you to fight again, so there really wouldn't be a point to fighting them in the first place. After all, wasn't the fight to test their skills in the first place? And even if they were inferior to you in skill, wasn't letting them live with their defeat worse then killing them? And by letting them live you give them a purpose to get stronger; so they can defeat you. And that's where it gets really fun because every time you fight them after that they always try something new. It's always interesting to see what people will try next.
Thinking of surprises and interesting facts brought him back to the fight earlier in the human realm. Fighting the female Elf had been interesting at least. She was good, he had to admit, and he could understand what his rival saw in her. The werewolf and his animagus friend were pretty good too, but still had a long way to go. And he was definitely amused when the human that Arnious had been planning on eating had gotten the best of him. But what had surprised him most was the young Lestran that had been with them. Sure, he knew that the Lestran was the one they were after, as well as the female elf, but it had still surprised him to see one of the legendary winged beings.
And he had not been disappointed either. He could feel the power the Lestran had, and the power the Lestran probably wasn't even aware he had. It was pretty impressive for one so young and had him interested in how powerful the Lestran would be when he was fully grown. It was quite an exciting prospect. But truthfully Malikie wasn't too surprised considering who the Lestran called father.
But the most interesting fact was the presence he had felt. One that had not been in the clearing they had been fighting in, but inside of the castle a little ways from them. A dark, powerful presence that he had felt as soon as he had exited the gate. It had felt like pure darkness, not the tainted kind he was so used to feeling, and felt potent and seductive. And the most interesting part was that he could feel Black Magic in it, yet the Black Magic felt... controlled, somehow, and pensive. And familiar. It had been bothering him for a while now since he couldn't place it.
Malikie dropped the glass shard and looked toward the balcony. One thing was for certain; he definitely wanted to find out who that powerful dark presence belonged to. And why he felt drawn to obey it, like a servant drawn to its master.
"You have got to be kidding me. Why do I feel like I'm in the center of the hugest practical joke ever?" Harry said as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. Complete with ruffles and frills, not to mention a horrendous maroon color and choppy designs, was the most grotesque set of dress robes Harry had ever scene.
"Are you kidding? That's one of the more better looking outfits." Ron said from behind him. Harry looked at the reflection of Ron's back in the mirror and glared at him.
"I'm starting to agree with Vince; Wizards have the most horrible fashion sense."
"Oh, come on. It's not that bad." Ron said turning around to face the mirror. Harry, looking at his red colored frilly robes with floral patterns on them, raised an eyebrow. Ron stared at the mirror for a moment before biting his lip.
"I rest my case." Harry said flatly before pulling the robes over his head and letting them fall unceremoniously to the floor. Looking sourly down at his robes he sighed before coming to a decision and walking over to kneel in front of his trunk.
"Well, it is a wizarding party, so we kind of need to dress– what is that?" Ron said turning toward Harry, who had pulled some articles of clothing from the bottom of his trunk. Harry glanced up at him with an amused look.
"It's like you said; it's a party, a formal occasion, so I'm going to dress accordingly. The way we do it where I come from, not in a dress." Harry said, gathering the articles together and heading to the bathroom.
"It's not a dress!" Ron called after him in a disgruntled voice. Harry paused in the bathroom doorway and turned to look at him with an amused expression.
"Ron, just because they add the word 'robes' behind it, doesn't actually change what it literally is." Harry said flatly before closing the door before Ron could reply. Giving a small smile Harry turned and gently placed the articles of clothing on the sink, running his hand over the smooth material.
Five minutes later he exited the bathroom feeling elaborated and light. Ron turned around, no doubt to give him hell, when he paused and looked him over.
"Whoa." Ron said, before raising an eyebrow. "It looks awesome, but it looks more like you're going to a battle field then a party."
"Is there a difference." Harry said dryly before turning to look at himself in the mirror.
A regal youth stared back at him, dressed from head to toe in a black leathery looking material. Set in the material was interwoven with gold threaded runes and designs, which shone and glittered like liquid gold when touched with the light. Black gloves of the same material adorned his hands, the tips cut off so that his finger tips and nails were visible, and his feet were covered with ankle high black scaley looking boots. Below his left shoulder was the Academy's Crest; outspread wings on either side of a sword and staff crossing, with the ruins of the elements around them.
Around his neck on a gold chain that looked like ivy was the family pendant/crest of the Salvenoes line, Kiryan's line, (the Pendent of Equality was under his clothes) which was of a creature long forgotten; an large wolf looking creature with curved horns, huge wings, lithe body, and thirteen thin tails, standing proudly on a grassy hilltop with the full moon behind it. On his hand the Keeper of Shadows and Serafious's family ring shone proudly and from his shoulders hung a black silk cloak that brushed the floor. Completing the picture was the Staff of Merlin pulsing rhythmically in the holster at his side.
"Question; what are you wearing?" Ron said frowning at his own attire.
"Warrior's Garb." Harry answered turning away. "And before you ask, yes it is meant for the battle field but is also a must wear for formal occasions. It's an honor, you see. Only those who have entered the academy get a suit and since there are very few of us that can meet the level to get in, there are very few that have one. And a whole lot that want one."
"Why? I admit, it looks awesome, but what's the big deal? Can't they just make a suit that look the same?"
"It's not so much the suit as the material and runes it's made from. The material is the hide of a Death Dragon, one of the powerful and legendary creatures that existed before time. Despite its flexibility, the hide it the strongest material in existence; nothing can cut it, not even a laser. And the runes interwoven within it are the most powerful you can use and block most spells."
"Can't others just get a Death Dragon's hide and make their own?"
Harry gave Ron a disbelieving look. "Only three Death Dragons can exist at once. And a hide can't be taken, it has to be given. And that's only when it's shed."
"Wait, Death Dragons shed?" Ron said raising an eyebrow. "That's a very reptile thing to do."
"Well, it's a good thing they do; no one can kill a Death Dragon, let alone for its hide. That's why they call it a Death Dragon." Harry stated before stretching.
"Aren't you worried about growing out of it?" Ron said while trying to rearrange his robes. And failing.
"No, it grows as you do. Pretty handy, huh."
Ron glanced at him before looking back at his image in the mirror. "One more question; Do you have anything else fancy with you that I can use?"
Harry smirked as Ron fidgeted. "Yeah, we may be able to find something for you." he said, finding amusement in Ron's elated expression. You knew something was wrong with a fashion when even members of the species that made it didn't want to wear it.
Vince had so called it. Not that he would ever tell the Elf that.
Ginny stood near the sidelines, watching as other witches and wizards swept across the dance floor, the women wearing extravagant and colorful gowns while the men were wearing tasteful and multilayered dressrobes.
At least, she was told that they were supposed to be tasteful. Even after growing up in the Wizarding World and being used to these things, she still couldn't help but agree with Harry's friend Vince (whom she had yet to meet, but had heard a lot about); they really did look like the male version of a dress, no matter what they were called.
Not that she would ever say that aloud.
Barely suppressing a sigh of boredom she leaned against the wall behind her. This was why she didn't like pureblood thrown balls. They were so boring, you weren't allowed to do anything other then talk to other people, dance (but seeing as all the music was slow music, which took all the fun out of it really, there really was no point), or eat at the gigantic spread on the other side of the room. There really wasn't much else to do. Which is why she didn't get the point of her or the other kids being there. And she had a feeling that over half of them would be asleep by the end of the night.
And this was supposed to be a ball for what was essentially a child's holiday. Go figure.
A flash of silver out of the corner of her eye pulled her out of her musings and caused her to look over to her side and smile slightly. As usual, the Malfoys had made quite the entrance, dressed in the glittering silver and dark blue that were the colors of their house. About a year ago she would have instantly turned her head away at the sight of them, just as her family had always taught her to, but this year she couldn't help but observe them with interest.
Lord Lucius Malfoy was as tall and regal as she remembered, long platinum blond hair partially pulled back by a silver band as to not get in his face. He too was wearing dressrobes, but for some reason they didn't look like a 'mans dress' on him; the dark blue and silver lined robes surprising looked dignified and masculine, with none of the 'frills or ruffles' that the others seem too have. Ginny briefly wondered how he pulled that off.
Next to him Narcissa Malfoy nee Black also looked gorgeous in a surprisingly simple yet elegant silver dress with dark blue lining. Her golden colored hair was up in a twist of curls with jewels through out the style and she was wearing a sparkling silver and diamond necklace, which was probably what caught Ginny's eye.
Turning her eyes away from the stunning couple, Ginny looked for the one person she was the most curious about, before spotting him not far from his parents speaking with some kids that looked his age. Draco Malfoy was dressed in the same style as his father, and had the same ability to pull it off. The only difference was that the young Malfoy was wearing a silver crested belt on the outside of his robes that looked surprisingly stylish.
Ginny observed him silently, trying to tie the regal youth in with the adventurous and sarcastic individual that was Harry's friend. Truthfully, she didn't know what to make of him. All her life she had been told that the Malfoys were the worst sort of people and to stay away from them. Yet from what Harry's letters had told her, as well as what Ron's had said when he had grudgingly sent her one, the Malfoy heir wasn't all that bad, even if he was a little bit snobbish and arrogant at times. But that probably just came with the territory of being the heir of an Ancient and Noble House.
"Well, there goes the hope that they were going to skip this party." Ginny turned slightly at the voice of her mother, who was shooting the Malfoys a dark look as they mingled and talked with the other guests. "They really shouldn't be here in my opinion".
Ginny choked back her reflexive response of 'well nobody asked your opinion' before she could sign up for the spanking and lecture of her life, before pondering why she would have thought that in the first place. Okay, so maybe her mom was right; Harry was a bad influence.
Just not in the way she thought he was.
Ignoring her parents who were currently badmouthing the Malfoys and other 'Death Eater Scum' with others of their 'circle', Ginny turned back to look at said topic of their conversation. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Fred and George slip away, but gave no indication that she did. Not that she could blame them really, listening to people rant was about as boring as it was going to get.
Swallowing back another sigh she glanced once more to watch the 'Lords and Ladies' when her gaze was caught in molten silver. Freezing, she barely stopped her knee jerk reaction of turning her eyes away and held the gaze stubbornly, something she was positive she would have never done before. One pale eyebrow rose slightly at this before, to her absolute surprise, the young Malfoy heir inclined his head slightly towards her and turned back to one of his companions, who had obviously asked him something.
Huh, weird. That was something that she was sure she would never see. And now she was curious.
Mentally shaking her head she, curiosity burning in her, she found herself walking toward the young Malfoy heir before she realized what she was doing. Unfortunately her movement had caught the attention of the young Malfoy once more, and he looked over at her again, eyebrow raising.
Well, if that wasn't a challenge, she didn't know what was.
Refusing to back down now, yet currently having second thoughts, she forced her legs to keep her forward momentum, walking away from her family (who had yet to notice anything thankfully) and toward what she was sure to be a rather humiliating encounter.
Well, Ginny mused, at least it was better then being bored.
To say that Draco was a little surprised was an understatement. He really didn't think the little redhead had it in her. But then again she was Ron's sister was well as Harry's penpal. Which was why he had looked at her out of curiosity in the first place. Harry had let him be privy to a couple of letters between him and the redhead, and her writing and attitude towards her family and their views had quirked his interest in meeting the young 'spitfire' (Harry's term) that Ron called sister. So when his family had entered he couldn't help but look around for the group of bright red haired individuals that made up the Weasley Brood, before spotting the small figure leaning against the wall looking bored out of her mind.
She was surprisingly not bad looking for a female Weasley, with red hair that was more red then orange (unlike the others in her family) and dark green eyes that, while not nearly was exotic as Harry's emerald green, were just as stunning in their own right, like the deep green of a rainforest. She was wearing a simple red dress, not that he was surprised, but looked surprisingly... pretty.
When she had suddenly looked up and caught his gaze, he expected her to be like most 'Light' families and immediately look away. Honestly, the fact that the Light spent most of their conversations insulting the 'Dark', yet refused to meet their gaze for a long amount of time, always both irked and amused the young Malfoy. So needless to saw when forest green eyes met and held his gaze stubbornly, he was a little surprised to say the least.
Inclining his head slightly towards the youngest Weasley (and getting a flash of amusement when she looked startled by the action), he turned away when Daphne Greengrass questioned him about what he was doing for the holidays. Answering politely (his father had always said to never ostracize a possible ally), he was going to go into detail when he caught a movement of red in the corner of his eye and turned to see the only Weasley girl walking towards him looking to be deep in thought.
He felt his 'friends' stir beside him as they no doubt were wondering what was going on before green met silver again and the girl seemed to hesitate. So he raised an eyebrow challengingly and knew she got the message when he saw obstinacy flash across those green irises and her stride even out once more.
He knew they had the attention of several people, his parents included no doubt, when the young redhead stopped in front of him. She seemed to be struggling with her opening line when he thought he'd save her the trouble.
"Good evening Miss, how are you enjoying the ball?"
It was formal. Formal was nice. Formal was good, especially since she had no idea what to do in this situation. It was only when she stopped in front of him when she realized that she really didn't know what to say. She couldn't just start right out talking personally because technically speaking, they had never met. And while Harry had described his friends and events that had happened, she had never personally met any of them with the exception of her brother.
But formal greeting were an excellent way to start a conversation, and she was currently mentally smacking herself for not thinking of it first. Thank you Draco Malfoy for the save.
Wow, that was something she never would have thought she would think.
"Very well, thank you. I hope I'm not intruding, but I wished to greet you on this fine evening." Ginny said automatically, the proper words spilling from her mouth before she could think about them. While her parents and most of the family didn't care much for pureblood etiquette, her older brother Charlie had been adamant that she learn it in case she ever had to be a part of any business dealings with purebloods. Good thing too.
"Not at all, young miss. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Draco Malfoy, heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Malfoy said, sweeping into a slight bow and kissing the back of her hand that he had taken. Surprisingly the words and actions did not hold a mocking edge, so Ginny went along with it.
"The pleasure is mine, Heir Malfoy. I am Ginerva Weasley, youngest of the Honorable House of Weasley." she said, sweeping into the proper curtsey. Thank you Charlie.
Weasley wasn't an Ancient house, but in was an old pureblood one, which was while it had the right to use Honorable in it. Though why her ancestors had used 'Honorable' instead of 'Noble' like most families, she had no idea. But hey, it wasn't too bad.
The slight upturn of his brow indicated that he probably hadn't expected her to know proper etiquette, so Ginny considered it a win.
His companions, who had remained quiet (no doubt from surprise), started to stir and one of them, the girl standing closest to Malfoy, stepped forward with a slight sneer towards Ginny. However, when she went to speak, no doubt to say something derogatory, she was cut off by a cultured voice that sounded from behind Ginny.
"Aw, good, so you two have met. Saves me the time and effort of introducing you."
Ginny had swerved around at the first couple of words and had to hastily sqwash down the urge to whoop out loud at the sight that greeted her. Harry Halisio stood behind her with an amused look on his face, his eyes moving back and forth between her and Malfoy with an entertained air.
Yay, no more boredom. Although how Harry had managed to get through the front door was a mystery.
The atmosphere around them seemed to shift slightly as people no doubt started to recognized one of the most talked about individuals as of late. Or maybe if could have been because of what Harry was wearing. Those were definitely not dressrobes; in fact it looked like decked out black armor, and it looked totally awesome. He was also sporting several crests and insignias that didn't look familiar. However, when she went to ask about them, the words caught in her throat as she caught sight of the pair behind him.
The girl behind Harry looked quite pretty dressed up in a light blue ball gown with white embroidery and crystals sewn into the dress. Her brown hair looked like it had been straightened and was currently up in curls with more crystals in it. The girl, who Ginny guessed was Hermione Granger from Harry's letters, was looking quite pretty, but her ensemble was not nearly as surprising as her brother's, Ron, who was escorting Hermione in a surprisingly Pureblood fashion.
Ron was wearing a outfit similar to Harry's in cut and style, if not materials and decoration. In was also a dark green with gold lining, which surprised Ginny to no end seeing as green was considered the color only worn by Slytherins and was by no means a family color. But even she had to admit it looked good on him seeing as the green contrasted nicely with his hair and seemed to pale out his freckles.
While the outfit itself was surprising, Ginny was more surprised that he was willing to wear it to a party mostly for Purebloods. Or more specifically a party where he knew their parents would be at.
That thought had her looking over at their family, only to see her mother approaching them with a scowl on her face. With a sigh Ginny glanced at Harry, who looked even more amused then before as he inconspicuously watched the enraged Weasley monarch who was approaching. A glance to her side showed Draco, who looked equally amused, an awkward Hermione, and a resigned Ron. Ginny folded her arms and sighed again.
Well, it seemed she was going to see on of those 'eye rollingly pitiable, but slightly amusing confrontations that seemed to be happening a lot lately with the resident magic users' situations that Harry talked about sometimes in his letters after all. And at her family's expense too.
Oh well, at least she wasn't bored.
Well, there's a chapter, albeit a short and rather dull one (okay, really dull). But hey, it's something, right?
Okay, now I know where I want to go with this, but the problem is the scenes that I want to wright happen way into the story and I have to write all the scenes and events that lead up to them, which is where I'm struggling *sigh*. The little details and encounters are really becoming a pain, so if anyone wants to lend an idea, I would be more then happy to use it.
Anyway, R&R please, it would be awesome to hear from you all again. I could really use the inspiration right now, even if it is a simple "Update Soon!".