The Divine Darkness

Chapter 24:Suppressed By All My Childish Fears

"Where is he?" he demanded, hurrying into the room. He eyed the empty bed. "When did she pass away?" Lucius stood stiffly on the other side of the room, looking out the window. The man's pale blonde hair was limp, falling to the middle of his shoulders. "Lucius." He hissed into the silence.

"Last night, a bit before midnight, My Lord." The sun was rising. "The funeral is in a few hours. Perhaps you can look for him there."

Voldemort stood still; eyeing his servant's turned back. The vision he had, it must have been delayed. Narcissa Malfoy was gone and with her, her two sons, leaving only her grieving husband. And grieving, he was. He didn't need his Match here to see the stark grief Lucius held. "Or maybe..." Lucius drowned on. "He may be in his room. You can look there." The words were bland, no emotion.

Voldemort paused in the doorway, debating on what he should respond with. Scolding for not treating him with respect? Or worse, a condolence? He sneered, turning his heel and walking away. He didn't deal well with emotions. Why sympathize for someone whom didn't serve him as a valuable asset? Narcissa Malfoy was a strong woman, one that he used to get through to Harrison, but she wasn't worth his grief.

Vaguely, he remembered the direction of Harrison's room. If he hadn't remembered, he used the muffled music as guidance. His nostrils flared as he inhaled the smell of lilacs growing closer. So the boy was here. Surprising... He had tried to find him last night when he heard about Malfoy's disease and he had been unsuccessful. Either the boy was so lost and broken that he didn't want to run any longer, or perhaps, he wanted to be found.

His footsteps were silent, not that it mattered. The room directly down the hall was open, spilling out both the rising sunlight and the music he had heard from downstairs. He eyed the blonde child sitting outside the open door. Lucius' brat looked up, his face crested with tears. "And why aren't you inside with your brother?" Voldemort murmured, standing at his full height before the sitting blonde.

Draco frowned, looking down in both respect and submission. "His emotions are haywire...as is his magic. I can't be around him now, My Lord."

The Dark Lord looked inside Harrison's room. A bed lay upon a slightly raised platform, looking messy, but that was the only thing disorganized about the room. The floors were a white marble, the walls were a deep navy and the furniture looked a deep oak. He eyed the clothes strewn all over the floor. It was a set of Hogwarts robes. The Slytherin tie lay innocently on the bedpost, fluttering lightly from the wide open bay window.

Against the wall, a record player stood, its needle spilling out an elegant, classical tune. Crimson eyes drank in the rotating disk as the song ended. He sensed the magic around the table, and with a ghostly hand, the needle went back on track, playing the same song once again- if not a louder. He remembered it from the night before. The one Harrison and his mother had danced to before she collapsed in his arms.

Lips thinning, he looked back down at the blonde boy. He eyed the tears, feeling his stomach revolt. It was pathetic...and what was even worse- was his Match was probably worse off. Could he go in there and handle the raw emotion? Or would he be a weak fool and turn away?

Snapping his cloak around him, he glided through the door. He eyed the open window, stepping closer to the fluttering curtains. Thin and long fingers curled around the window sill as he looked out. As he suspected, his Match was on the roof.

For a moment, he felt his chest constrict in both pleasure and... something unknown to him. With an obsessive stare, he studied Harrison. Never before had he seen such a beautiful and corrupt sight. The boy was broken, yet he thought him beautiful. It was wrong of him, he knew, even with his twisted morals, that seeing a broken beauty such as Harrison wasn't right. But he was beautiful.