Disclaimer: We do not own any of the characters used or involved with this story; they all belong to J.K. Rowling. The plot is only partially ours. The themes involved and major conflicts are parallel to those works of William Shakespeare: Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet and the Taming of the Shrew.
Chapter 1: All That Lives Must Die
Draco stepped through Platform 9 ¾. His shiny new dragon skin boots walked gracefully across the recently waxed tiled floor. He had begun to memorize that walk- for it was already the end of his 6th school year.
Draco pushed open the wide glass doors leading to the sunny day outside. Shielding his sensitive silver eyes with his finely manicured hands, he searched the crowded parking lot. When he found what he was looking for, a long black stretch limo (Draco wasn't old enough to apparate home), he walked towards it. He was greeted with the expressionless face of his butler Walter.
"Master Draco," Walter greeted him.
"Walter," Draco addressed the tall, slightly stocky man.
Walter had been Draco's butler ever since he was a small child. Walter was the only comfort the young Draco had growing up. He kept the young child occupied by the many piggyback rides and roughhousing. Walter had even taught Draco his first spell.
Draco handed Walter his luggage and opened the limo door to get in. Unbeknownst to him, a pair of carefully hidden red eyes were watching his every move.
*~*~*
Draco ran his hand over the smooth gray leather of his seat. His eyes followed his hand over to the normally occupied seat. He wondered where Lucius was. Draco knocked on the smoked glass window separating him and Walter.
Up in the driver's seat, Walter was busy driving back to the manor in Surrey, England. While he was humming softly along to the radio, he heard a sharp rap on the window behind his head. He pressed the shiny black button to the left of the steering wheel and heard the faint buzzing sound of the self-lowering window.
"Hello Mr. Malfoy. How can I assist you?" Walter asked Draco.
Draco placed his arms on the window ledge and put his head through. "Why isn't my father here, Walter?" Draco inquired.
Walter inwardly smiled. Should he tell Draco the news or should he wait for Narcissa to tell him?
"Walter? Did you hear me? I asked you a question." Draco persisted.
"I have some quite shocking news, young Draco. While you were away at school, your father died…" Walter said trailing off. He wasn't exactly sure what else to say.
"My father died?!?" Draco said in shock. His hands clenched together causing them to turn white with sanguine knuckles. Even his normally dry eyes began to pool. "My father died," Draco repeated again slowly-almost cautiously as if saying it would finalize the death.
"Yes, I am afraid so," Walter said, keeping his eyes on the road- not wanting to see the expression on Draco's face.
"And my mother?" Draco asked.
"She's…"there was a pregnant pause before Walter continued. His word choice would either send Draco into hysterics or major shock. He would prefer neither of those choices. "Your mother is dealing with it," Walter finally finished.
Draco let out a sigh of relief. At first, he thought Walter was going to say that she was dead too. "Thank you Walter. That will be all for now," Draco said hollowly. He pressed a button on his armrest and watched the glass window role up slowly-ever so slowly.
It seemed like ever since the end of this 6th year, Draco felt like everything was in slow motion. He sat back, and stretched his legs out. His hands, still slightly shaking from shock, folded neatly together in his lap. He began to wonder if he was living a dream. Maybe, in some other universe, somebody was dreaming and controlling his life.* It started off as a pleasant dream- making Head Boy for this 7th year (Dumbledore had announced the two heads, himself and that know-it-all Hermione Granger, at the end of the 7th year graduation ceremony) but it all seemed to slowly be turning into a nightmare. First, his trunk was lost (he found it in the end, but Draco could have done without the 30 minute delay), then he found out his father had died. Draco wondered if it could get any worse.
*~*~*
Draco walked up the steps to the Malfoy manor and knocked on the door using the dragon shaped doorknocker. He remembered the day when Lucius picked it out.
"The dragon symbolizes the super-natural, power, magic, strength, knowledge and wisdom. Therefore, we will use it for our house. You know Draco, your name comes from the dragon, hence why you are so skilled." Lucius told the 5-year old Draco.
A house elf answered the door and brought Draco to the sitting room. There, sitting on the loveseat was Narcissa, clad in a pastel blue robe (not exactly what Draco would call mourning clothes) holding hands with a cloaked figure- a figure of the man whom Draco would soon hate. Voldermort.
"Mother!" Draco screamed in outrage, "Why are you with him?"
"Draco, while you were away, you father died. Easing me through the pain was the dark lord. Soon after I recovered from grief, we were married."
"Your grief lasted less than a week!" Draco said shaking with rage at his mother's actions.
Voldermort interjected their conversation before Narcissa had a chance to reply, "Now, now. My faithful servant, Draco, and my son**."
"A little more than kin and less than kind**," Draco mumbled.
Voldermort pretended not to hear the rude comment Draco made, "What ails you to be so grouchy all of the sudden. Where is that obedient, respectful boy I knew last time I saw him?"
"I am too much I'th'sun** while I was away at school," Draco said.
Voldermort was oblivious to Draco's play on words.
"Good Draco, cast thy nighted colour off, And let thine eye look like a friend on evil. All that lives must die, passing through nature to eternity**," Narcissa smiled sweetly and inched closer to Voldermort.
"Ay, madam, it is common**," Draco replied.
"If it be so [common], why seems it so particular with thee?**"
"'Seems, madam? Nay it is. I know not seems. Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother, nor customary suits of solemn black, nor windy suspiration of forced breath, no, nor the fruitful river in the eye, nor the dejected 'haviour of the visage, together with all forms, modes, shows of grief, that can denote me truly; these indeed seem, for they are actions that a man might play: but I have that within which passeth show; these but the trappings and the suits of woe**," Draco stepped back, out of breath from his long speech.
Voldermort spoke up, "'Tis sweet and commendable in your nature, Draco, to give these mourning duties to your father, but you must know your father lost a father, that father lost, lost his. But to persevere in obstinate condolement is a course of unmanly grief**. With that said, I ask of you not to go back to Hogwarts for your 7th year, and instead, stay here and learn from me."
Draco looked aghast at Voldermort's comment about him not going back to Hogwarts. Of course he would go back to Hogwarts. Hogwarts was his home.
"Let not thy mother lose her prayers, Draco: I pray thee stay with us, go not to Hogwarts**," Narcissa chimed in.
"I will consider it," Draco said solemnly, already knowing that he would give no more thought to the issue.
"Thank you, Draco. You are dismissed if you have nothing else to say. I have already had a house elf bring your belongings to your room," Voldermort told Draco.
Draco bit his lip to control the retort he wanted to say. Nobody told Draco that he was dismissed like some common elf or muggle. Draco turned towards Voldermort, "Farewell, dear mother**."
"Thy loving father, Draco**" Voldermort corrected, taken back by being called someone's mother.
"My mother," Draco repeated, "Father and mother is man and wife, man and wife is one flesh; so my mother**." Draco turned on his heels and briskly walked out of the room.
Upon entering his bedroom, Draco cursed underneath his breath. Why had everything gone so wrong for him? One moment he was happily (well, happier than he was ever at home) staying at Hogwarts and now he had come home to this disaster.
Draco sat down on the bed and stared around at the immaculate dusky room. Many possibilities floated through his mind; possibilities that could allow him to see his father again. "O that this too too solid flesh would melt, thaw and resolve itself into a dew, or that the Everlasting had not fixed His canon 'gainst self-slaughter. O Merlin! Merlin!**" Draco laid back on his bed holding his throbbing head between his hands. After drinking a dreamless sleep potion he found in the top of his dresser drawer, he closed his eyes hoping that he could change his nightmare.
*~*~*
A/N: Hey! This is Jenn and Anna and this is the beginning of our new fanfic. We were inspired to write it because we have been studying Hamlet in school and one of us have read the other two Shakespeare plays that will be intertwined with this fic (Taming of the Shrew- Jenn and Romeo and Juliet-Anna). Actually, one of the main reasons we are writing this is because we have nothing to do in connections, so we decided to start writing. Well, we both hope you guys will continue to read on. Oh, and if you haven't figured it out yet, this chapter is parallel to Hamlet (mainly Act 1). In case you were wondering by the lack of a bushy-haired female in this chapter, yes, this will be a Draco/Hermione romance (it probably will stay at Pg-13). So never fear, Hermione's summer will appear in the next chapter. Connections is such a boring class that we will have a lot of time to write so hopefully we will post often (allow 1-3 days between chapters- homework depending). Please review this, because it makes us realize that we are not spending all this time on it for nothing. Oh, and also, if any of you have read any of the 3 previously mentioned Shakespeare plays, let us know if you have any suggestions about how we could make it better.
Thanks so much!
Jenn & Anna
* We used this idea from a book called "The First Deadly Sin" by Lawrence Sanders
** Quotes directly from Hamlet written by Shakespeare (he deserves all of the credit for those witty remarks, not us!). We changed the wording in some of them, to fit this story, though.