a/n: rewinding a bit to the last 2 chapters - sorry if i’ve confused anyone. chapter 4 was meant to show how
unpredictable and cruel draco can be(with the mirror and the rose). i’ve left it open as to what draco’s feelings
towards hermione are and vice versa(for now, you can make up your own minds, but later on i’ll steer them in
some direction). the black rose is the lead-up to chapter 5. often things in life aren’t clearly defined, such as
emotions. sometimes there is no clear way to draw the line between hate and love, and this is where the shades
of grey thing comes into relevance. the rose is a sort of lead up because of the way it changes back from black
to white, and the fact that it was white to start off with. chapter 5 also shows how emotionally and mentally
unstable draco is. he’s gone on a total power trip, and it’s kind of gone to his head(that’s why he’s singing and
smashing things). gracias amigos for reviewing the story. your support is fantastic. i honestly didn’t think many
people would read this story or review it. feel free to tell me when you’re not quite clear on something or if
there’s a mistake in the story.

A Thorn-Torn Soul of Thunder Weeps For the Rain

by Black-Diamonds
 
 

Chapter 6
Flowers Don't Bite / Oddnesses
 

“I don’t know why you insist on giving the slaves breaks. They’re slaves, they should be
grateful they get anything from us at all.” Sultry, annoyed Pansy lay herself out on a black
velvet lounge, biting down sulkily on her lip. Her hand held a metal goblet containing some
strong dark red alcohol. She swirled it around before gulping some of it.

“Don’t give yourself a nosebleed.” Draco looked out of the rain-spattered windows and
on to the garden, where a figure in a white shift was walking about almost aimlessly. “I
don’t think walking in the middle of a storm is much of a break.”

“What are you, the Slave Liberation Army or something?” Pansy cried, trowing her goblet
across the room. “You. are. the. DARK LORD. You have ultimate power over everyone.”

“No shit sherlock. Power over everyone. That includes you. So sod off retard.”

Pansy got up and narrowed her eyes at Draco.

“You don’t scare me.” She placed a kiss that reeked of wine on his lips. “Dragon.” She
left, kicking the house elf that stood at the doorway. The elf immediately began banging
his head on the frame of the door. Draco rolled his eyes and started singing softly to
himself.

“No-one loves me, every bo-dy hates me-ee I think I’ll go eaaaat worms.”

Another glance out the window showed him Hermione flicking water over the edge of the
pond with bare toes. Fastening his heavy black cloak, Draco exited the manor by the long
cold stone staircase and went down to the garden.

“She sells sea-shells by the sea-shore...” He plucked a blossom from an obliging plant,
and strode purposefully over to Hermione. Draco reached out and placed a hand on
her back.

She recoiled from his touch, almost falling into the dim waters of the pond. Remembering
the last time she’d seen him with a flower in hand, Hermione moved away from him.

“Don’t be scared. Flowers don’t bite.” He whispered, his breath creating little puffs of
whiteness in the cold air. He twirled the soft blue flower in his fingers, before lifting it up in
a gesture that could have either been him breathing in its honey-like scent or him brushing
the dew-drop petals with his lips. From lowered eyelids he looked up at her, almost with
a kitten-like innocence. Hermione felt a strange sickness in her stomach. It was the result
of either not having enough to eat or the way he looked at her or the fact that it was HIM
in general.

In a surprisingly gentle manner, he held out the flower to her. She eyed it with
a weary caution. No thorns. The stem was smooth and green. Hermione found herself
reaching out and taking it. Once she held it in her own hand, Draco looked at her once
more with his glacial-blue eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of his perfectly shaped
pale pink lips, before walking off towards the woods beyond the garden.
 
 
 

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