What Is Fanfiction
Fanfiction is a story based on someone else's already created work. For example, if you wrote a continuation of Eldest from the Inheritance Trilogy, it would be fanfiction since you're not the person (unless Christopher Paolini is visiting this site) who created Eldest in the first place.
Just to let you know, I don't actually write romance fanficiton or any sort of fanfiction with explicit content other than violence. If there's violence in a story, I'll give you a warning.
Table of Stories
The Table of Stories is something like a Table of Contents, but instead of showing the contents of one story, this give links and a list of the various and seperate stories available for you to read.
The True Meaning of Loyalty
This is a story about Draco Malfoy and his journey from becoming a Death Eater up till his final fate. The story is still being written.
THIS STORY CONTAINS EXTREME VIOLENCE AND PAIN - PARENTAL GUIDANCE FOR READERS UP TILL THE AGE OF THIRTEEN SUGGESTED
The True Meaning of Loyalty
This is a story about Draco Malfoy (yes, Harry Potter fanfiction) from the point he was branded as a Death Eater, to when he tried to kill Dumbledore, to when he attempts to decide where his loyalites lie (I have a bad habit of quoting Severus...erm...Snape). There is violence and a bunch of pain in this story, so if either of these topic disturb you, GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!!!
Disclaimer Notice: I do not own nor claim to own the characters, events, or happenings found in this story UNLESS the presented content cannot be found in J.K. Rowling's legendary series or Warner Bros. and Bloomsbury cannot lay claim to it. I do claim ownership over characters created by myself and will not be incredibly pleased if I find their clones on various other sites.
Draco tried not to shudder as he watched the face before him - the Dark Lord. He could hear his Mother whimpering in a corner as he raised his left fore-arm and tried not to think second-thoughts as he learned the Dark Lord could read minds. As he felt the little rat in the corner, Wormtail, pull up the sleeve of his robes, his body finally betrayed him as he shivered, not only from the cold of the rain, but from the coldness radiating from the man - nay, thing - in front of him.
"Cold, Draco?" the Dark Lord asked, laughing sadistically. If you could call it a laugh, that is. Draco would've called it a cackle.
"N-no, my Lord," Draco replied, too afraid to keep the stutter out of his voice. His eyes widened as Voldemort pulled out his wand. It wasn't at all like the rumours he had heard, it wasn't made of human bones and didn't have a skull tip. And if Draco hadn't known better, he would've gone as far as saying it was normal.
The wand itself was made of yew and was incredibly long, almost fourteen inches. The handle was engraved with words from what Draco knew to be an ancient tongue, but he couldn't place it.
Draco came back to reality when he realised he was screaming out of his mind. Voldemort's wand tip was touching a sensitive vein in his fore-arm and it was throbbing as he tried to block out the pain.
"Don't try to stop me, Draco. Allow the pain to consume you. The acceptance of pain is the first step to becoming a Death Eater."
Draco screwed up his eyes and did as Voldemort told him to. He let the fear and the hurt and all the elements of his life, the faking and the lies, take him into one small ball of self-pity and collapsed with the effort of relearning who he truly was.
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He was back at the Manor, still shaking from what he had been through. He watched his Mother cross the room and carefully avoid his gaze. She walked towards the fireplace and took some floo powder out of a small silk bag near the hearth.
"Where are you going?" he asked, his voice shaking slightly. He didn't want her to go. As much as he hated to admit it, he didn't want to be alone.
"I need to speak with Severus," she answered mildly, but he could detect the undercurrents radiating through her voice.
(I'M SORRY, BUT I REALLY HAVE TO GO)
