Author's Note: Hello, everyone! I am back. Well, I'm sure most of the details of this story will be explained within the chapters. I sincerely hope that I have not lost any of my faithful readers over my long absence.
Disclaimer: I thoroughly wish that the Harry Potter franchise was mine, but alas, it is not.
Chapter One: Gray Sky
The train chugged slowly out of the platform, puffing smoke into the slate gray sky, fading into the distance as Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny left behind the Order of the Phoenix and settled into a compartment with plush scarlet seats and golden handles. Ginny took the seat next to Harry, blushing light pink, and Ron, after staring nervously at Hermione for a few seconds, took the seat next to Ginny. Hermione immediately opened up her Arithmancy book and disappeared behind it, tucking her bushy hair behind her ears.
"So…" Harry began, wringing his hands together, his knuckles paling. "Are we going to talk about what happened just now?" His jet black hair stood up in more directions than usual, his eyes were squinted and furious, his mouth set in a tight line.
Hermione didn't look up from her book. Ron and Ginny exchanged a look, but stayed silent. Harry glared at his best friends' determined silence. His eyes passed over Ginny to Ron, who shrugged, and settled on Hermione, who still refused to look up.
"Well?"
Hermione finally sighed and put her book down, her manicured finger meticulously keeping her place. "Harry, what do you want me to say?"
Ron and Ginny remained quiet. Harry looked even angrier than before. "I want you to seem at least a LITTLE more upset!" Ginny put a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off. "They tricked us, Hermione, bloody tricked us! Shouldn't you be a little more….something?"
Finally, Ron spoke. "He's right, Hermione." Hermione didn't take her eyes off of Harry's, but her jaw clenched at Ron's statement.
"Getting angry isn't going to change anything, Ronald," she said calmly.
Harry snorted. "We trusted them, Hermione, and instead of honoring our wishes, they just…they just betrayed us."
"I think you're being a little dramatic, Harry."
"I think you're acting a little too calm, Hermione," Harry spat her name. "There has to be a way off of this train…" he looked around the compartment futilely.
Ron gripped his wand tightly. "Reckon we can Apparate out?"
Hermione slammed her hand on the leather cover of her book. "There is nothing we can do, get that through your thick heads!" Her finger finally came out of the crease in her book, and she tossed it carelessly onto Ginny's lap. "They managed to get all of our things packed and put on this train, told us we were going on some sort of mission, and left us here. They are MAKING US go back to Hogwarts."
Harry was insistent. "But Dumbledore said –," Hermione cut him off.
"Don't you think I know what Dumbledore said? We're supposed to find the Horcruxes right away. We're supposed to finally end this war. I know, Harry, I know. And I know this is probably the most frustrating thing in the world for you right now, but tell me this: what exactly would we have been doing had we not been duped into going back to school?"
Harry glared at her, all his pent up anger and frustration boiling in his emerald eyes, and Hermione softened. "I'm sorry Harry."
"I don't know why you're sorry, you didn't do anything."
"I can't believe he would do this to us…" Ginny's voice was soft, but sad. Harry broke eye contact with Hermione, and looked down at his best friend's sister. "I mean, Mum and Dad I understand, but Bill? He helped them."
Hermione put a hand on her knee. "They just thought they were doing the best thing for us."
Ginny's red hair veiled her face as she stared at her lap, where small tears fell on the leather cover of Hermione's book. Harry put a comforting arm around her.
"We'll get out of here, Gin, I promise," he said, his nose and mouth pressed into her hair. Hermione opened her mouth to respond that no, they would not be getting out of Hogwarts once they got there, but closed it with a snap.
A knock sounded on their door. Luna was in the doorway, smiling serenely and waving. Hermione, without looking at anyone else, opened the door and Luna stepped in. Her hair was twisted in a knot at the top of her head, but she still looked as frazzled as always. Her necklace of butterbeer corks and her radish earrings were intact, and she wore a bracelet made out of wound daffodils.
"Congratulations on being made Head Girl, Hermione," she said as way of greeting. Harry growled, and Luna turned to him. "You look preoccupied, Harry. Wrackspurt?"
Harry didn't respond. Ginny shook her head at Luna with a faint smile. "He's just tired."
"Hello Ronald," Luna directed toward Ron, who spluttered a reply. She pulled The Quibbler out of her bag and opened it, flipping aimlessly through the pages. "Did everyone have a good summer?"
No one even cared to comment. The summer had been wretched; the sickening feeling of grief hung over every aspect of their lives, and every door opening was like the death toll. Everyone was jumpy, on edge. No one had been prepared to hear that Lupin was dead. Especially not Tonks. Hermione remembered the day they found out.
Tonks was sitting at the dining table, holding baby Teddy in her arms, his hair a bright, florescent yellow, his eyes a glowing green. There was a group surrounding them, making cooing noises at the baby, or remarking at how beautiful he was, and Tonks simply glowed. Mad Eye himself kept prodding the baby with a small rattle, saying "Constant vigilance, young one. We shall teach you about constant vigilance." Ron was making funny faces, drooling on himself, making everyone and the baby laugh.
Molly was cooking, asking Ginny for help. Hermione was marking the page in her book. Harry was smiling, watching Ginny make faces behind her mother's back. Fred and George were playing Exploding Snap in the corner, and Bill and Fleur were feeding the chickens just outside everyone's view in the garden. The sky outside was gray, much like it was now, and a bright branch of lightening flew across the sky, illuminating the yard, and the shadow of Arthur Weasley.
Friendly, balding, and weathered, he stepped into the kitchen, stomped the dirt out of his boots, and removed his cloak. No one but Hermione seemed to notice that he had returned. Something was clearly wrong. His brow was wrinkled, his eyes were red-rimmed, his cheeks were wet; it was not yet raining outside. Hermione remembered standing quickly, but he shook his head almost imperceptibly, and she sat down again. Arthur laid a hand on Tonks's shoulder, and asked to speak to her outside.
Tonks looked up into his face, took in his eyes and the frown fixed onto his mouth, and covered her own.
"No," she whispered.
Arthur didn't speak, just took her hand and led her outside. By this time, everyone was watching in shocked silence. Molly, who seemed to have already deduced the outcome, covered her mouth with her hand and silent tears rolled down her freckled cheeks.
Hermione looked down at the ground, praying suddenly that she was dreaming, that she was going to wake up. She pinched her arm, tugged her hair, stepped on her own toes…no luck. Everything seemed muted; everyone was silent, waiting for someone else to speak, for the other shoe to drop. Suddenly, a wretched, strangled scream pierced the air.
Harry was the first one out the door, Hermione close behind. Tonks was on her knees, her head in her hands.
"What happened?" she asked Arthur, who was kneeling beside her.
"He had become the leader of the pack," Arthur said, rubbing soothing circles into Tonks's back. "He had to fight the previous leader, and won the allegiance of the seconds-in-command. It seemed that he was slowly but surely convincing this pack to come over to our side. And that's when Fenrir came."
He stopped his narrative, choosing to spare Tonks any more pain.
"Continue," she said, her voice flat.
"But -"
"Just do it."
"Fenrir recognized him, of course. He challenged him to a fight; winner takes the pack, of course. Remus tried to refuse. But he had not yet won the respect of the rest of the pack, and backing out of a challenge is worse than losing; worse than death," Arthur took a deep breath. "So he fought."
Tonks's voice had shrunk to a whisper. "And he lost."
Arthur didn't need to respond.
"Where is his body?"
Arthur looked at her profile. He had never seen anyone look so completely broken. "There is no body."
Tonks closed her eyes tightly, letting tears escape from under her closed eyelids. "What do you mean there is no body?"
Arthur looked uncomfortable. "Please, Nymphadora, don't make me say it."
"Why. Isn't. There. A body."
"They ripped him to pieces. There's no body left."
Luna stared at all four of the others, who were all obviously thinking of the same thing. "I guess that's a no."
Across the train, Malfoy sat in a full compartment, surrounded by Slytherins. Pansy's hand was latched tightly onto his own, and he managed to separate it by feigning a need to scratch his ear. Crabbe and Goyle were fighting over a childish comic that neither of them seemed inclined to outgrow, Nott and Blaise were talking about Quidditch, and Malfoy was acutely aware that Pansy was saying something to him, her hand inching up his thigh, but he ignored her.
Blaise's voice cut through his reverie. "Draco, mate, you okay?"
"Splendid," he replied without looking away from the window. The rain was starting to fall, in small, glistening droplets, blurring the window, though Draco's vision remained quite clear. He could see small little huts in the distance, the rolling hills that were starting to give way to more mountainous terrain. His eyes matched the sky.
"Drakie, you've barely said a word to me since –"
"Can we drop that, Pansy?" Malfoy's icy voice cut her off instantly. She closed her mouth and lowered her head onto his shoulder. Malfoy's hand closed around his left forearm, and he squeezed as tightly as possible. The tattoo still burned, like it had a short temper, and he spent a lot of time trying to put it out of his head. He looked up, noticed Nott looking at him, and shot him a smirk.
"Like what you see, Nott?" he sneered. "I mean, I heard rumors, but –"
"Bugger off, Draco," Nott said, throwing Crabbe's or Goyle's comic in Malfoy's direction. With a flick of his wand, Malfoy burned the comic to a crisp, caught the ashes in the palm of his milky hand, and blew them like a kiss at Nott, who scoffed.
"That's the Draco we all know and hate," Blaise muttered, hunkering down in his seat.
Malfoy's smirk was now firmly in place. "Now, now, Zambini, wouldn't want to provoke the new Head Boy, would you?" He mockingly shined the badge on his chest and raised an eyebrow in challenge.
"I'm sorry, what kind of Boy are you?" Blaise retorted lightly.
"The kind you specialize in," Nott interjected, saving Malfoy from having to procure a response.
Pansy rolled her eyes. "Honestly, you two are so immature."
Malfoy chuckled. "Now, now, Pansy, can't go excluding me from that blanket of distaste. I was, after all, the one who started it, and I would like some credit."
Pansy looked like she didn't know the correct answer. Malfoy turned away from her and stood up.
"I would love to sit here and exchange some witty banter, but I have some errands to run. Don't even think about it, Pansy." Pansy, who had stood up instantly behind him, sank back into her chair reproachfully.
Malfoy slid the door open, stepped into the drafty corridor, and closed the door silently behind him. He kept his eyes straight ahead until he heard a sound he was looking for. The sound of Ronald Weasley's stuttering. He didn't listen to the conversation; he didn't need to. The only thing he needed to note was the girl sitting next to him was looking rather annoyed and painfully sad.
Draco Malfoy prided himself in being able to read people extraordinarily well. It was something he had gotten from his aunt at a very young age. After shoo-ing a few terrified first years out of the compartment across the corridor, Malfoy settled comfortably in a seat, pulled a book out of one of their trunks, and opened it. Hogwarts: A History. He sighed, but kept his eyes on the compartment that held the Golden Trio and their friends.
Potter's eyes were blazing with untold anger, his brows furrowed, and his hands clenched. Weasley's eyes kept switching from the ground to Granger, who had her nose buried in a book. Malfoy snorted. Typical. Weaselette kept drying her eyes inconspicuously on her sleeve, and Loony kept her eyes in her Quibbler. Either way, the silence in the compartment permeated into the hallway and even made Malfoy a little uncomfortable. However things were going, they did not look good.
So everyone was having a bad time, huh? Malfoy shook his head, and a few platinum locks of hair fell into his eyes. When he looked up, the clear vision he had been so proud of was useless. He saw Potter's lips form the word "betrayed" and saw Granger's hand start tightening on her book. Luna looked up from her magazine long enough to insert a word of two, and Weaselette's shoulder's shook silently; everyone ignored her.
Malfoy was transported back to the summer, where he watched a small redheaded girl that looked so much like Ginny Weasley sob in the corner of a darkened alley, begging for mercy. The bodies of her mother and father lay behind him, motionless on the cold concrete. This was Draco Malfoy's first assignment since the debacle of his assignment to kill Albus Dumbledore. He was supposed to kill this entire Muggle family. The little eight year old girl showed signs of being a witch, but she was Muggle-born. A Mudblood.
Draco Malfoy never wanted to be a murderer. He had never even thought about being a murderer. When he was given his assignment to kill Dumbledore, he tried to find a backhanded, less confrontational way of accomplishing the job.
The Dark Lord's voice started in the back of his head. "The whole family, Draco. Don't dissssssappoint me." Malfoy had already disposed of the mother and father. He turned his wand on the young girl.
The little girl cried louder, hugging herself, tightly; there was no one left to hug her now. She called out for her mommy and daddy, but by now the fear was choking her and she was no longer coherent.
Malfoy remembered calling for his mother and father like that, not so long ago. Most people believed that, with age, the dependence on parents lessened. Children were allowed to cry for their parents. And Malfoys were never children. Not really. He looked at the girl's tearstained face and had to force back the bile rising in his throat.
He closed his eyes and raised his wand.
Draco Malfoy's eyes, that were so once full of painful emotion, were now empty. The train jolted a stop and Malfoy stood, almost mechanically. He, without thinking, threw the book on the seat, wrenched open the door, and ran right into Harry Potter.
Harry righted himself almost instantly, and an apology was already on his lips. "Sorry, I didn't – oh, it's you."
"That's not the response I usually get, but sure," Malfoy returned, brushing off his robes.
Ron raised his wand at Malfoy, who smirked at it. "Now, that's more like it." Hermione grabbed Ron and Harry by the back of their robes with a small admonishment.
"Bugger off, Malfoy."
"Now, now," Malfoy said mockingly. "You wouldn't want to be pulling a wand on your new Head Boy now, would you?" he asked, pointing to his badge. Hermione groaned.
"Should have guessed you'd be Head Girl, Granger," he said, making the title sound more of an insult than anything else.
"I suppose you should have," she said, keeping a tight hold on Potter's and Weasley's robes. Malfoy raised an eyebrow at her, and turned his eyes on Ginny Weasley, who was still staring at the ground. Luna had her arm around her.
"Get going, all of you. I want to get the hell off this train." He locked eyes with every single member of the group before stalking off, his cloak billowing behind him in a way most reminiscent of Severus Snape.
Hermione released a breath she didn't know she had been holding. She had never been afraid of Draco Malfoy, far from it, but there was something in those eyes that unnerved her. She took Ginny's hand and pulled her off the train, ignoring Ron's and Harry's speculations as to how to escape and pulled her distressed friend along.
Ginny was more torn up about her brother's betrayal than the idea of being back at school. It had taken her all summer to convince Harry to let her join their group and help search for the Horcruxes. They had all planned on leaving a week before school was to start. They had all the essentials packed in Hermione's small beaded bag. They were halfway out the door when the light in the kitchen came on.
"Where on earth do you think you are going?" asked a stony voice.
Ginny didn't have to turn around to know her mother was absolutely livid. Harry's eyes were clenched closed, Ron's face was rapidly turning so red that it blended in perfectly with his hair. Hermione just looked shocked.
"Umm…." Hermione was the first one who recovered.
The explosion after that was one of the worst Ginny had ever seen, and she had grown up with Fred and George. After that, they were stuck in the house with a constant guard to ensure that they weren't going to just up and leave. They weren't allowed to leave until the first of September.
"Get up," said a brisk voice. Ginny opened her eyes wearily, and took in the scarred face of her older brother, Bill.
"Why? What's going on?" Ginny was rapidly waking up, and brushed the sleep from her eyes.
"We have a mission to complete." Was all he said. He got up and left the room, leaving Ginny to get dressed in silence. She walked down to the living room to find Hermione, Ron, and Harry dressed and confused, much like her.
"What's going on?" she whispered in Harry's ear. He shook his head, his hands bunched in his pockets. Hermione was looking around, her eyes moving so fast they looked like a blur. Ron kept yawning.
"C'mon," Bill said, and the five left the house with Mad-Eye Moody, Tonks, and Molly. They all piled into the car that was idling in the front lawn.
"Where are we going?" Hermione asked.
"Kings Cross Station," came the reply from Molly, whose face was stony.
"What? What's happening at Kings Cross?" Hermione asked.
Mad-Eye kept his eyes on the road but replied, "You're going back to school."
"WHAT?" Harry erupted. "You don't understand! Dumbledore left us a mission! We have to complete it!"
"What you don't understand, Potter, is that you have very important things to take care of in Hogwarts as well. We have missions for all of you. And they will be completed. Is that clear?"
No one answered. Ginny was staring in disbelief at Bill.
"How could you?" she whispered.
He didn't reply.
"IS THAT CLEAR?" Mad-Eye roared.
And now here they were. Ginny tightened her grip on Hermione's hand. The elder girl looked up from the ground and gave her a small smile. Hermione glanced from Ginny's sad brown eyes to Ron's anxious blue ones, to Harry's angry green ones. Then she realized why Malfoy's eyes unnerved her so much.
His eyes had no emotion.