Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and like harry potter characters. Though if I did, I wouldn't be writing this. Instead I'de be up in Malibu living it up with my good friends Tequila, scotch and ale.

Oh, and this is NC-17!!!!!!for adult topics, language and situations. *though I'm planning on it to be TASTEFULLY done* So if that's not your thing or your a prude....leave now or forever hold your piece. ^_~


The Diamond

By BlackDeath

       

His mother always said that he was her most exquisite of jewels. The Diamond of her collection, to be exact.

And he had always believed her, taking in this unadultrated praise with gracious zeal, and not without a hint of satisfaction.

Yes, Draconis Dorien Malfoy new his place in the world. His dimension consisting of his Lord, his father, and his mother.

But his Lord, unlike the one that most associated with the name, did not rule within the kingdom of the stars in the embrace of the heavens. No, his Lord did not wave temptation in front of his mortal puppets, tickling their greed for power that was not unlike that of a starving glutton's insatiability.

His Lord ruled under the shadow and dark. The safe haven from all the evils that lurked in the light of day. His Lord held the vast fount of truth. Truth of why The Divine Race had fallen.

It was the hunger of the muggle, the true perveyor of perversity.

His family's duty was to recognize and understand this truth.

They were Malfoys afterall.

And a Malfoy can NOT fail their Lord.

And a Malfoy does NOT pay retribution.

To anyone.

//Ever//.

And neither does a Diamond.

       

As Diamonds are, Draco was beautiful.

But that was appropriate of course.

Diamonds are the most covetted of gems.

And the most cold.

The Prince of Malfoy Manor now understood what it was his mother had ment when she bestowed upon him that title.

He smiled.

       

 

Lucius Malfoy was entertaining tonight. Deatheaters and their children talked avidly and undendingly for hours even beyond the twelvth striking of the clock.

Midnight. The Witching hour.

A time of magic and seduction.

But only for the fool.

Draco snorted to himself. Narcissa Malfoy glanced stealthily twords him with a disaproving frown. A Diamond should never degrade themself with such a savage expression.

He snorted again.

The youth found himself putting his observatory skills to use most of the night, rather than his social amiability. He was in no mood to mingle with Pansy Parkinson, let alone Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe.

One can only take so much irritation.

He watched his Father whispering intimately to a former associate of the Ministry. Draco had inherited many things from Lucius; His stature, his eyes, his hair. Trivial things when looked upon overall. Save for the only important one as Draco could see that he had recieved: his father's rage.

The only thing he could truly say he'd never been content with in being granted by his sire. It had cost him many things in his life for it. He had nearly been ruined many a time by it.

That black rage.

The Prince of Malfoy Manor abruptly felt a draft move through the room. He would stop thinking in that direction.

His thoughts drifted to more passive seas. The candles never waned, as they were supposed to, and the almost inaudible, weeping cresendo of violins never ceased, as it was made to. The table cloth of emerald satin felt fine and cool beneath his fingertips.

Severus Snape, his Potion's Professor was staring at him.

He had, of course, noticed it the moment his gaze had settled upon him in the night, but had ignored it, subsequently not caring what the greasy-haired git saw in the quietude of Draco Malfoy.

But his attention was strangely drawn now. As though he was missing something entirely.

A feeling that unnerved The Diamond immensely.

He steadied his shaken spirit and roved his own stare upward into the black eyed, looming countenance of the Potions Master belligerantly.

Snape had such little eyes. Almost like black glass beads with the most barest trace of light playing upon them. Shards of malice. No wonder most associated his appearance with that of a raven.

A rather greasy, speculative raven.

The Diamond smirked.

"Professor, are you enjoying yourself this evening?" He inquired with one flaxen brow raised in mild taunting.

The Cool exterior didn't once slip, the intensified pierce of his gaze the only tell-tale sign of change.

Snape elegantly placed his cutlery down and replied ambiguously,

"Why yes, Mr. Malfoy, I am infact enjoying myself tonight. I should perhaps do well to thank your mother personally for her marvelous taste in wine. She always did have such interesting preferances in flavor, don't you agree?"

The moment the last was spoken Draco instantly felt the blood which rushed through his veins curdle, milk souring in the heat of anger.

Snape must have sensed the same thing, considering his eyes were suddenly alight with an ungodly joy.

Or maybe it was just the pallor of The Diamond's usually white face turned purple with fury.

Then again, perhaps it was the choking sound of shock which had been released into the atmosphere of the dinner party from the youth's mouth, giving him away.

His dinnerware clattered to the floor with a finality that Draco did not feel. Fortunately the entire company was engaged in talk or dance, so this went unnoticed, except for the two in the room who had been watching him at all during the night's events.

His mother, Narcissa Malfoy and Severus Snape.

Whilst the Potions Master of Hogwarts watched the young Malfoy in smug amusement, (Draco was sure the man was positively tickled that he was able to have gotten to him like that) his mother had a brow creased in wonderment. A strange emotion in her normally stoic face.

The Diamond was sure she would be horrified to know that her forehead was scrinched up rather unbecomingly.

His mother. His achingly perfect mother, with her hair of gold and eyes of the deepest cobalt he had ever known. Near deep as the trenches of the ocean, his mother's eyes were. Lips the color of the sacrificed blood of the Lamb, and as pale and luminescent as Draco's own.

It had been a large and well-spread rumor throughout the Wizarding World for years that Narcissa Malfoy was thought to have had Veela for parents. And a rumor it was, for she was not Veela in the least, meerly gifted with the glorious, rare beauty of the gods.

The Prince of Malfoy Manor preffered thinking of his mother in this light. His unbreachable, unreachable, portrait of Mastery and Perfection.

If Draco was not the jewel of the family, then she most certainly was.

And he was bourne from the fruit Perfection's womb.

What better a gift could he have asked for?

He slipped calmly from the table, the tears of pain threatening to invade his heart like the most merciless of armies.

He approached Narcissa with confidence he was not feeling and placed a soft, resounding kiss upon her forehead to assuage her worries over him for her benefit.

She smiled with loving admiration for her son.

The Diamond lifted a hand to her cheek as though to touch her and make sure that she still existed though it wavered in hesitancy as he thought better of it after he caught sight again of Snape looking onward in silent triumph.

He would not give him the victory. The bastard would not see how much he wanted to wrap his arms around her and reassure himself that she was still his mother.

But strangely enough, as he exited the room, he had a feeling that he already did.

       

 

//Draco could hear the moans and heated cries coming from upstairs as he was woken from his sleep.

Never had he heard such throws of passion coming from his parent's bedroom. Or was it pain?

The screaming grew louder and more boisterous, threatening to shake the walls from the foundation of the manor if they grew anymore.

For some inexplicable reason, known not even to him, The Diamond was afraid.

Terrified.

He knew the only way to calm his fears would be to see what was happening. Oh he normally would know, well enough. For he was not a stupid child...but this was different. Something wasn't right. It was not the average moaning of pleasure his father would be able to rise from his mother. No, this was again, something...

different.

He exited the sanctum of his quilt as he stepped resolutely from his chamber toward the stairs. He wondered momentarily, albight briefly if the house elves had awakened as well.

The young Prince attempted to relax his rapidly pumping heart as he neared the passage to his parent's rooms.

If his mother and father were up for an all-nighter again, why had they not cast a silencing spell, at least for decency's sake?

Did they forget?

Not expecting anything to come of it, Draco tryed to open the door. What happened surprised him, stirring the turmoil within him more than anything had thus far.

The door was unlocked.

Unlocked.

Unlocked?!

Not a spell had been placed on it. Not even a distraction charm.

The blood drained from his faced, heart now thundering like a rabbit in a cage.

He pushed the door open.

There, among his Father's bedsheets and linens, lay his mother, hands bound to the bedposts and knees supporting her weight as she cried out terribly, a wild thing caught in a fire.

And Severus Snape, heaving and panting, a great mass of sweat and flesh, as his thighs repeatedly bit into her tender backside harshly.

his face gleamed with the ugly glow of lust as spittle ran from the corner of his mouth, eyes glazed dumbly as he pounded murderously into her unwilling flesh.

That's when Draco saw the tears steaming down his mother's face as she shouted, blood trickling from her mouth as she screamed her throat raw.

And that's also when the numbing cold washed over Draco, bringing with it the black rage he knew would be fast approaching.

Silence was the only thing he thanked it for, as the blood in his ears and head rushed with the soaring feeling of hate, it drowned out the contented mewls and thrashing groans of physical ecstasy that were threatening to rob him of his sanity.

Severus Snape was raping his mother.

And he would die tonight.

The Diamond felt the adrenaline flood his system, eyes now aglow with the fires of Hades.

His fingers caressed his wand and the rage bled into a deceptive facade of serenity as he tilted his head to the side, watching Snape take his last bated breaths before he changed the angle and thrust harder into his unwilling partner. He was nearing his pinacle. The youth could sense it, hear it in the hitches of his panting.

So help him the sick fuck would not die in ecstasy.

"Syciandias" The Prince whispered as he flicked his wand toward the wall.

Snape was pulled with a nauseating gurgle from his mother and thrown straight into the wall.

His eyes were once again swept into focus as his temporary paradise was shattered as he lay defenceless against the wall.

Crying and sobbing from the injured form on the bed.

"Cruciat-" He was stopped only by his mother, her tiny hand staying what would have been the flick of his wrist, had he not been halted.

"My son, please, no."

Shock and amazment. Unlike anything he would ever have experienced prior in his life flooded his mind, quenching the fires that had previously been prepared to kill.

What did she say? His mother was not the type to not believe in condemning criminals to their just desserts, whether it be a meager two days in Azkaban or death.

This was not the women he knew. Who was this creature that had taken on the form of his beloved mother?

"What are you talking about! Of course I'm going to kill him, for fucking Voldemort's sake he RAPED YOU!!!"

A low chuckling reverberated throughout the room. Slight gasping as well, though The Diamond didn't have the time to take any satisfaction in that.

"Raping my dear child? Rape? Oh this realy is rich. My dear boy I didn't need to rape your mother. Narcissa very much likes it rough, or did she never tell you that Draco?"

Silence was once again his companion, though this wasn't granted by his own mind. It was felt very keenly in the room as he shook his head in denial. This was insanity. Where was his father? Why was Snape looking so viciously entertained right now? Why wasn't his mother saying anything?

He looked back at the woman sitting on the bed. How could he have not noticed that her eyes were still glazed with unfulfilled need, the hungry visage of a jungle cat on the prowl?

Draco will forever remember that moment the clearer out of anyother that night. The moment his mother's voice purred in his ear, a seductive murmur of consent as she picked up his limp hand and placed it on the ripe swell of her breast:

"Would you like to join Severus and I, My Son? Were you jealous?"

Mortification and horror will never be words suited enough to describe the frozen terror that pooled itself in his stomach, his heart skipping a beat for a moment in increduality.

But he still felt the wet warmth of the tongue that traced the outershell of his ear almost casually, as his mind began to register that his hand was still on her flushed woman's flesh. The pink areola pert and wrinkled beneath his palm.

His MOTHER'S flesh.

He jerked his hand back as though branded by the coals of hell, a wail of frigid fear siezing his voice as his eyes widened, seeing yet seeing nothing, and the next thing he new he was running, tearing down the corridor like the wind, his ears trailing behind him as he heard the tail end of a bark of raucous laughter from the Potions Master on his behalf.

He never fully understood how he made his way back down the stairs of Malfoy Manor and to his room without remembering how he got there. All he recalled was the scalding acid running down his face as he lay beneath his bed, his hands closed fists, nails cutting jagged cresents into his skin and the pain, oh gods the burning PAIN to know that women WAS his mother. Moreso his mother than he had ever known, or been allowed to know existed.

Though he convinced himself otherwise that very night as the blessed oblivion of a dreamless sleep, for the first time in his life, claimed him.//

       

Draconis Dorien Malfoy woke in a cold sweat. Heart clenched in a vise-like grip as he dreamed it again.

Despite what he knew in his heart he had to believe it was a dream. Had to. For his sanity, for his health, for his very soul he had to.

For the love he had for his mother he had to.

//It was your sick imagination Draco. Your so fucked up you don't know where to begin. Father always told you not to eat any chocolate frogs before bed.//

The youth cradled his head in his hands, berrating his mental facilities and telling his traitorous memory over and over that it had been a dream.

Or so he told himself.

 

 

 


Diamond In The Rough

Shawn Colvin - John Leventhal

As a little girl I came down to the water
With a little stone in my hand
It would shimmer and sing
And we knew everything
As a little girl I came down


But in a little while I got steeped in authority
Heaven only knows what went wrong
There is nothing so cruel than
to bury that jewel
When it was mine all along
I'm gonna find it


You're shining I can see you
You're smiling that's enough
I'm holding on to you
Like a diamond in the rough


Every now and then
I can see that I'm getting somewhere
Where I have to go is so deep
I was angry back then and you
know I still am
I have lost too much sleep
But I'm gonna find it


You're shining I can see you
You're smiling that's enough
I'm holding on to you
Like a diamond in the rough
Like a diamond in the rough


In my dreams I go down by the water
With a little girl in my arms
And we shimmer and sing
And we know everything
In my dreams I go down


You're shining I can see you
You're smiling that's enough
I'm holding on to you
Like a diamond in the rough
Like a diamond in the rough


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